


Peace and Trouble

by NorthSol



Series: Bleidd y Cerbin [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Further warnings or tags will appear with chapters, M/M, Not all vampires know vampire history, Pining, Slow Burn, canon Divergience (only slightly in some parts regarding B&W), mandrake hooch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-11-20 15:02:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 46,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthSol/pseuds/NorthSol
Summary: Geralt leaves Kovir after things does not work out with Triss, or Yennefer. He heads for Touissant and Corvo Bianco, the only home he has ever owned personally.There trouble finds him as it always does with witchers and their skill sets suited for the dangerous and less conventional.Luckily, more than just trouble is drawn to Toussaint with Geralt there.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I debated back and forth with myself if I should post this, I don't feel it to be adequate as the other works out there.  
> However, I was talked into posting pieces of it. And I was floored by the kindness I was shown. So,I have decided to take courage and post this story after all.  
> I thank for all encouragement, from people I both know and don't know.  
> And sincerely hope I won't disappoint!

Geralt had never been so naive as to believe he would ever peacefully settle anywhere. Few witchers died peacefully in their beds after all, old age wasn’t something that worried you when you hunted monsters for a living. 

Yet in recent past, he had truly come to believe he could set his swords up on the mantle and settle down in Kovir with his beautiful Triss. Ciri was safe…Hell, the entire world was safe from that which none could combat.  
And with Temeria restored, the war between North and South settled…Well it looked like the horizon had brightened greatly.   
He was a fool to believe any of that could really last. 

Oh, it wasn’t a calamity or some new evil that arose from the depths. The reasons for his bereavement of a settled life with a trusted partner was, all in all, rather mundane. Which just made them all the more bitter. 

He had settled in Kovir, with Triss. A little bored at times perhaps, but nothing a quick contract couldn’t ease up a bit for him.   
Then Yennefer had blown over them like a cold hurricane. She had officially come on business with the Lodge, it was only natural she stay with her sorceress sister Triss who was also with the Lodge. Kovir was now a center for mages and magic practitioners after the escape from Mad Radovid’s witch hunters in Novigrad. So she truly had reason to be there, yet still Geralt couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Or rather, something was boiling right under the surface, waiting to well up with great effect. 

He had been right, Yennefer hardly attempted to hide the scorn she harbored for Triss and Geralt both. Triss bore the brunt of it, of course, but the usual jabs and slaps to Geralt held extra sting and venom. Almost as if the sorceress believed more arguments and belittling of the witcher would bring him back to her.   
To Geralt’s great annoyance, Triss turned out to be no better than Yennefer. The two sorceresses had started nothing short of a war, laying annoyances and hinders in the other’s way. Geralt caught inescapably in the middle, manipulated in all directions, loved and hated simultaneously by both at times. 

It came to be too much, now he knew he hadn’t been a white knight himself all the time with neither Triss nor Yennefer. But this… this ruined both women for him, for with this he couldn’t see peace with either of them. None of them provided him the safe harbor or the sense of warmth, things he hadn’t even know he would ever truly want. And he didn’t feel like he could provide any off the two with what they deserved either after this, the realization came when he finally realized he was guarded and stoic with them both after all their machinations. 

So Geralt did the only thing that he could think of, after long fights and cold wars, he left a note to both women and then he left.   
Kaer Morhen held no true promise for him. However he did visit there on his way south, did a little detour from Kovir.   
But the place felt abandoned, dead. The protective charms they had placed before splitting away from the old place still held. Even with the fortress no longer hosting witchers… Geralt still didn’t want it to fall to bandits, or some lords. 

He visited the graves of the fallen, meditated by them, and spoke to fond memories. Then he gathered some things from the ancient fortress before continuing on to his only other possible destination. He still held the estate in Toussaint after all, the one thing that was truly his. And although the Duchess wasn’t all that fond of him anymore, well, he didn’t plan to go to fancy soirees anyway. And if the Duquessa’s sister came knocking he’d push her off a cliff. Though from how they had played it, she was hopefully under lock and key still, she had better. 

As he rode Roach steadily, he did ponder on why exactly he didn’t settle closer to friends. He did indeed have them after all, despite appearances.   
He could have tracked down Eskel maybe… or gone to Novigrad and stay with Dandelion and Zoltan. Take on contracts.   
But neither aspect felt inviting, not when he had his own building that actually stood in his name. He’d try to send letters and inform his friends of his whereabouts and maybe… maybe make their welcome apparent. He would never admit to being lonely, witchers were lonely by default. But having friends visit would be nice, Ciri would undoubtedly come once in a while. At least he hoped she would.

The trip down to Toussaint went steadily, occasionally interrupted by impromptu contracts to fatten his coin purse a little.   
To finally arrive where the hills seemed to get greener, the wind had less bite, and the sun seemed closer…it was as if balm was being applied to his aching being, and he could put old quarrels and angry voices out from his head as he made his way to Corvo Bianco. 

His only home.


	2. Chapter 1

Barnabas-Basil was seemingly overjoyed when he saw Geralt settle Roach in the stables. The Majordomo practically rushed out to meet him.

“I had a hunch you would come for a visit soon, sir, so I’ve had everything prepared,” He said as he strode over, he did a cursory glance in the stable before settling his eyes back on Geralt. 

“Will the red haired lady be joining us later?”

“Ah, no I don’t believe she will. This is to be my permanent residence now B.B,” Geralt just kept a steady gaze on the other man who faltered a little. 

“I, I see, well then let me offer my sincere sympathies, and don’t take my joy in the wrong way now sir, but, I am also glad you will be staying more permanently,”

“Ah, don’t worry about me B.B, I’m not some fickle lord you know that. No offense taken. And now I expect you to keep me company with some good wine and wicked round of Gwent later.” He did a brief point at the man before gathering the saddle bags over his own shoulders and walking up to the estate. 

Inside was just as he remembered it, warm, comfortable, and smelling of spices and meat bubbling over the fire in the kitchen. This meant Marlene was still here and working magic in the kitchen. His lips curved up into a small smile as he veered left and pushed the door to his bedroom open. He had grown rather fond of the old lady, now he truly hoped some of his friends would drop by so the woman had someone to cook a feast for. 

He sat down heavily onto his bed and the sheets under him looked fresh, smelled of soap and Toussaint summer breeze. Even alone, this really wasn’t such a bad place to somewhat settle down in. 

Perhaps he really would pick up a pruner and learn to care for his vineyard properly as Regis had joked when Geralt was last in Toussaint.   
The witcher chuckled to himself as he got out of the armor and laid the pieces out. It was strange to remember that it had already been 3 years since he had been called to Toussaint to deal with the Beast of Beauclair.   
Now how he had managed to claw himself somewhat decently out of that mess he had only vague ideas. He likely still had his head only on account of Regis’ quick thinking and clever tricks. 

He hoped Regis was safe… and that he had managed to find Dettlaff and calm him down to the point of not wanting to slaughter things on sight in his anger. Knowing how deep Regis’ patience went though, his friend had likely managed to calm and quench the betrayal fueled anger that had ravaged the dark clad vampire.   
He stood and dressed in his plain shirt before arranging his armor on the armor stand. There was activity outside his door, which probably meant food was being set out. Well, he wasn’t about to refuse Marlene’s magical food. 

“Oh, Master Geralt it’s so good to see you again. Barnabas-Basil told me what happened, would you like some cinnamon rolls after dinner?”

“Marlene, you don’t need to coddle me like I’m some heartbroken maid-“

“I’m making you cinnamon rolls, now sit, and enjoy the stew!” She herded him to the table before she fussed her way back to the kitchen. Geralt had to smile after the old woman as he shook his head, she’d probably lather it with simple glaze too just as she knew Geralt liked.

He felt at home here, at ease. That was really all he had wanted for the place he wanted to be a home. Coming back here had been wise indeed. 

~

Time flew by. The summers in Toussaint never lacked work as the vineyard became heavy with fruit. His herb gardens flourished happily under careful care mostly from Marlene, but also Geralt who had truly taken up the care as a hobby.   
Together with Barnabas-Basil, Geralt had decided to let some of the workers go so they could save up some money. This meant more work for Geralt, but the witcher really didn’t mind it. He worked long days, took comfort in aching muscles by the day’s end. He didn’t let his other routines wither either; he would practice in his new training area outside, keeping his sword arm firm, and his aim true. 

On rare, rainy days he would compose short and to the point letters to his friends, informing them of his new residence.   
Dandelion had naturally appeared rather quickly after he had received Geralt’s letter. And Geralt knew it was really to pry about what had happened between him and Triss. The witcher would only grumble that things had reached a natural end and say no more on the topic no matter how much the bard begged, groveled and did poor attempts at pouring Geralt too much drink. These endeavors usually ended up with the want to be-trickster under the table not long after Geralt had established a pleasant buzz. 

Still, it was nice to have a friend over, especially when Zoltan joined a short week later. 

“Sure this is wise, won’t the Rosemary and Thyme be seized by beggars and drunks again?”

“It’s the Chameleon, Geralt,” Dandelion swayed a bit as he corrected him, having already had two glasses too much of Est Est. 

“Nah, Priscilla has a good handle on things, even if she has to be careful with her voice still,” Zoltan laughed and clapped his thigh. 

“Very true, ah, as fierce as fire she is when it comes to the protection of the finer arts!” The bard waved his glass, causing wine to slosh over the edges.  
Geralt just shook his head and toasted his sauced friend. 

“You know Geralt, you should just, not put yer eyes on a lass for a while,” Zoltan had his elbows on the table, supporting his liquor-heavy head. 

“Oh yeah, should I feast my eyes on a strapping lad instead?” Geralt giggled into his cup.

“Hey, try all as long as you live, cus you learn and live or some other poetic shite,” The Dwarf slurred.

“Yeah, what is that saying, hey, Dandelion, wake up!” Geralt nudged the bard with his boot. 

“Nuh, I washn’t… appraisn herr…bosom…nay I… say… ugh,” was all the reply the witcher could get from under the table. 

“Well then, to learnin and living and tryin all things,” Geralt raised his mug, Zoltan near crashed his head to the table as he reached for his own mug.

“May Geralt of Rivia swear off the lasses and find himself a good man instead!” Zoltan bellowed, and they clunked their mugs so hard most of the contents splashed out over the table and further marinated the platter of fruit set out for them. 

Geralt stumbled to bed some time later, only watching and laughing as Zoltan swore up and down as he tried to drag a drunken bard up to the guest rooms.   
He merely kicked off his boots before flopping down onto the soft sheets. Zoltan’s last toast lingered in his mind, conjuring memories from his long since passed youth. The feel of a chilly summer at Kaer Morhen, he was with Eskel by the lake. They had been newly made witchers who grew bored at the constant lectures and lessons up in Kaer Morhen when sword practice was done for the day. 

So the two of them had snuck out and made their way to the lake. They had undressed and gone for a refreshing swim.  
He remembered fingers that danced and explored over skin, laughter over a shared feeling of excitement and newfound pleasure. It had only lasted for the summer though, for when fall came they were sent down into the valleys to make themselves known to the nearby villagers. Eskel had found himself a pretty maiden, and they had tumbled in the hay as it were. 

Geralt had laughed with him and the other witchers when Eskel described the hay fun in detail later, gaining slaps on the back and cheers in his honor. And this form of attraction had just gone suppressed by him since. He was already a mutant freak, no need to give the common folk more to sink their judging claws into.   
Besides, it was dangerous to appreciate men as one did women. They were more liable to inflict bodily harm on you if you chose poorly. So, Geralt had drowned himself in women more or less, all kinds, and he had enjoyed almost every ride. 

But sometimes he longed for something firmer to hold, a deeper connection with someone who wasn’t so hell bent on “fixing” his quirks that didn’t suite their demands for finery and quality of the noble sort. He wished for someone who didn’t have constant demands for displays of romanticism and affection.   
Of someone who hadn’t an incessant need to dress him up and parade him around to the other ladies to frown at, like he was a damn show pony. 

Geralt, if he was going to continue on this path of drunken honesty to himself, wanted someone he trusted on a deeper level, someone who liked him for him, but could also stand up to him without making it into belittling and jokes on his expense.

For some reason, a sharp toothed smile came to mind before heavy and dreamless slumber caught up with him.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild warning for description of 2 dead people. This is set in the witcher's universe after all. This is kinda typical

Autumn arrived with darker and longer nights. The grapes of Corvo Bianco were harvested and put into the makings of wine and grape jelly. 

The people of Toussaint knew now of the witcher who seemed to have settled in Corvo Bianco, and it was with relevant normalcy that he would be called out on contracts. Geralt had never had this much coin stashed away before, a wholly unfamiliar feeling that was not at all unpleasant. 

He was in fact celebrating a good sales deal with Barnabas-Basil out on the porch, when ill omens upset his witcher senses.   
Workers on their way to the lodgings stopped and gasped as they cast their eyes up at the darkening sky, where a moon seemingly soaked in blood rose slowly over the hills.   
Geralt narrowed his eyes at the ominous spectacle. 

“My word, sir, have you ever seen anything like this?”

“I’ve seen red moons, sure, but not like this. No…” Geralt shook his head with a sinking feeling in his gut. 

“It is not the time for a darkened moon either, but that is... rusty red not-“

“Not red like fresh blood, something is either happening or will soon, B.B. We are best served by being careful.” The eerie light blended with the witcher’s already unsettling eyes. 

Few in Toussaint rested easy that night, the very air filled with a nervous anticipation what this bloody moon would bring upon them.  
But morning came, free of heavy skies and blood tainted omens. The sun rose as normal, heralding another day filled with work under its warmth. Geralt was not as quick to dismiss his initial unease however, his many years as a witcher under his belt it was impossible for him to do so. 

And once more his instincts were proven right as a ducal messenger rushed to his estate that same evening. 

“Master witcher, the Duquessa requests your person to a matter most urgent.”

“Uhu, didn’t go so well for me in the past though,” Geralt arched a brow at the messenger that had practically flown down from his horse. 

“This is not about the traitor and the beast, this is a whole new matter. A family was found murdered, sir.”

“Wouldn’t the city guard be better suited for looking into such things?” was Anna Henrietta trying to yank him around for her own amusements?

“It is the manner in which they were found and currently are, that prompted her Highness to request you, master witcher, there was nothing natural about it!”

“Well, now I am intrigued. Show me.”

 

It was a small farmstead. Unnatural fog was settling around the buildings, giving the surroundings a ghostly look even in the warm sunset light. 

“They are in the main building, over there, the Duchess believed you need to look as they were found.”

“Smart of her,” Geralt stepped quietly as only a witcher could, up front the door to the main house was slightly ajar. A simple push was all that was needed to reveal the horrors that awaited inside. 

From the ceiling, hanging up-side down, was a man. He was mangled, but in a peculiar way. Something, or someone, had removed skin and flesh from his throat, but leaving enough for the head to stay attached, most of his limbs were similarly in such… patches of full flesh and no flesh. Geralt looked to the floor, and although there was spatter and smears of blood all over, it was not nearly enough from what had taken place above. Had the blood been gathered? Or drunk perhaps? Was this the work of a higher vampire?

Memories of his chase after the ritualistic killer in Novigrad came to mind briefly, he knew they were more than capable of such horrendous scenes were they disturbed enough. He would have to check the entire body for hidden clues in the flesh, maybe even the stomach.   
He glanced around the room, it was a mess, so a struggled had likely occurred. But there were no signs of any others, it was only the man hanging from the ceiling. He was slowly swaying, rather grotesquely, in a faint breeze from the opened door. 

Despite all the blood, Geralt could not find tracks leading away from the building, only many different tracks inside the building itself. Either the culprit had taken time to clean or change footwear, or they had flown off. He went back to the swaying body, needed to cut it down.  
Climbing a chair he got a good grip of the rope and could lower the man as slowly, and gentle as possible to the floor. He lit the lights in the room, sunlight outside quickly leaving them to darkness as afternoon changed to evening. 

The corpse was adorned with confusing opposites, some places the wounds were ragged as if the piece had been torn off, other places it was clean as if a surgeon had stepped in with his scalpel. He found no objects or other anomalies within his wounds and cuts, so the witcher moved to pry open the stiffened mouth. Once open, he was left staring.

This just couldn’t be…!  
But the two fangs left enlarged and sharp despite the filing down of the other teeth… they did not lie. Geralt stood and looked down on the oddly mangled man, no, vampire.   
He didn’t look to be regenerating either, it was only when they did that Geralt’s medallion would vibrate after all. This higher vampire truly looked and felt as if he had met his demise. The witcher frowned, if all current knowledge held true, only other higher vampires could permanently kill higher vampires. This was why it was such a crime to the vampire race for one of their kind to murder another of their kin after all. 

“Why gather the blood though…” he murmured to himself as he shook his head. 

“Master witcher, do you need assistance?” a voice broke through his pondering, turning he looked up to see a guardsman entering the room.   
He was half tempted to hurriedly close the corpse’s mouth, for once they learned this was a vampire he’d likely be burnt and his ashes spread around the entire duchy. And most importantly, no one would care a whit that a vampire had met its end, no matter how pleasant and good of a man he had seemed while alive. If the farmers he had met earlier had spoken true about the deceased, anyhow. 

“There was a woman here too, right? Did they have children?”

“A son,” the guard confirmed. 

“Then where are they? I have looked around, but there is only dried blood and no signs of them inside this building at least. See if they are in one of the other buildings, I’ll finish here.”  
The guard nodded and turned on his heel, yellow eyes moved back to the poor man on the bloodied floor. He deserved more than the darkening of his reputation and name simply for being different. From what Geralt had seen and heard so far, this man had led a decent life with his family. And no one deserved such a grueling and agonizing fate. He was no coroner, but he could tell the man had suffered greatly. 

He pulled out the file he had used for metal work earlier that day and did quick work with the man’s fangs. He made sure there was no immediate evidence of his tampering, and he would suggest for them to just bury this man as quickly as possible. Maybe throw in some threats of wraith hauntings and the like.   
He also hoped upon all he could think of as holy, that this incident had nothing to do with the blood painted moon from last night, but truly, deep down he knew they were likely connected. 

Instead of dwelling more on this, he went out after the guardsman.

“I think I found the wife, sir,” the guardsman came from the farm building, hand covering his mouth and nose. He looked rather ashen too.

“If you’re going to throw up, do it away from here,” Geralt just stated coldly before pushing into the barn.   
Mixed with the usual smell of animals and hay, was the intense smell of blood and dead flesh. In a sad corner, next to an empty stall, sat or...lay… it was hard to tell. It looked closer to a mangled heap of meat, cut body parts and ripped clothing. But with it all, that was definitely a dress. 

This just looked brutal, there was nothing special about it, just a poor woman hacked to pieces and set of in a corner.   
He moved the lips carefully on the severed head. 

“Flat teeth, all of them narrow and thin like a regular human’s,” he muttered quietly to himself as he stood straight again. She could still be a vampire of course, as the females of the race looked even more the part of human than their male counterparts. They didn’t have the claw like nails unless they let them grow wild, and their teeth were smaller, easier to hide. Usually had a pair of fangs though…  
Nothing had been ripped out of her mouth, so he could be pretty certain she was human. If Regis was to be believed, it wasn’t all together uncommon of vampires to take human lovers from time to time. After all, Regis’ friend Dettlaff had loved a human woman almost too fiercely.

He shook his head and straightened up again, looking down at the sad mess that had once been a woman. Judging from the blood around her and in the barn, this one’s blood had not been collected or drained from her.   
There was nothing else to see here, there were no signs of the kid anywhere, and Geralt truly dreaded the moment they would find him… especially if he had been treated anything like his parents. 

“Did you find the kid?” he asked the moment he stepped outside.

“No, sir. And we’ve been through every building and nearby area,” the guardsman shook his head, looking to two other men to confirm they had in fact not found anything.

“Damnit… there are almost no clues outside the homes either…” Geralt frowned.

“What shall we do?”

“Nothing you really can do, the Duchess was right there is nothing ordinary about this. I doubt this is the work of a normal man…or human for that matter. But I cannot be sure as to what, the way the man was treated… almost too precise to be a beast.”

“The woman looked like she had a meeting with the beast of Beauclair. But she’s behind bars... so that cannot be… can it?” one of the younger guardsmen looked at him nervously.

“Doubt it, won’t hurt to check up on her though. But the man’s blood has been gathered in something, it doesn’t look like he has been drained by a vampire… at least not conventionally. The pieces of flesh stripped from him is strewn around the room, I cannot be sure if all the pieces are accounted for though, and I wouldn’t recommend wasting time on finding it out either.”

“But, the ducal coroner is-“

“This was a very violent and upsetting death, it carries hints of rituals. He should be buried with his wife’s remains as quickly as possible to ensure he doesn’t rise as some kind of specter or necrophage. Perhaps that is what the culprit wants, for you to waste such time so the corpse has time to let nefarious rituals work. Wouldn’t want that.”

“N-no, we certainly wouldn’t!”

“Arrange for a burial quickly, I will focus on locating their child so I’ll need a description. You can inform the Duquessa that I am looking into this, but I am just as baffled as you are. I’m not opposed to working together.”

The guardsmen gave quick nods before scrambling to their horses. Geralt took one last look at this tragic place, and was already wishing dearly that his friend Regis was here to consult him.

For this was a new madness altogether.


	4. Chapter 3

The case was eating at him, to say the least. After a day filled with pacing and swearing after failing to track the missing boy, he had settled to write a letter to Eskel who should be settling in the lower valleys in Kaedwen by this time. He asked his longtime friend if had ever seen or heard anything of similar make before, and to ask Lambert too if he happened upon him. 

He entertained the thought of sending letters to Triss and Yennefer about his conundrum, but the thought was only brief and soured by the real possibility that his writing would be taken as to hints of loneliness or paint him as ripe for further manipulations.  
Wasn’t like sorceress knew all that much of vampires anyway, he assured himself. 

Now if only he had a way of contacting Regis…But all he knew of his whereabouts was that he was going after Dettlaff, who was going “away somewhere, far from men”. And that was near three years ago now.  
He groaned as he put his head against a stack of books on his work desk in his bedroom.  
Why couldn’t there just be a book about these things, almost like the bestiary, but solely focused on all things vampiric and- wait.  
Geralt rose abruptly.

Books, Regis had had plenty in his crypt at Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery. If Geralt had any luck, the vampire could have left something of use behind. No one dared going near the decrepit crypt anyway.  
He rushed past Barnabas-Basil without so much as a good evening as he sprinted outside and rode to the old and overgrown cemetery. 

Even if a cemetery was hardly ever inviting, knowing his good friend was not there made it seem more desolate and sad. The door to the crypt was once more locked, so Geralt sought the second entrance and hoped for no overgrown bugs this time.  
His hopes were not answered as he was covered with sticky, smelly substance that came with chopping giant centipedes up into bits. Corvo Bianco was making him soft, he was already longing for his tub back at the estate. He shook the need of warm water off for the moment, and stepped up into the crypt. 

It was dark, lifeless. This he had expected though and lit the remaining candles and torches without much fear of being in company with anything.  
To his delight, the makeshift bookshelves between the arches on the wall still held plenty tomes. He should move them all to Corvo Bianco really, take care of them so maybe Regis could reclaim them one day. He had left in such a hurry after all.  
He skimmed the titles first, many were on herbs, medicine. Scientific theories, and history. It reminded him of easy conversation, and late nights discussing the deepest of topics. He had never needed to guard himself in conversation with Regis, for he knew he would never be belittled or made a mockery out of if he happened to lack knowledge on certain topics. Regis was always happy to explain, even tried his best with topics that couldn’t really be explained. He smiled to himself as he found the books that held hints towards something vampiric. 

There were surprisingly few, of course there was.  
None of them sounded like the writers were intimately familiar with the subject, but then again, you would probably not make it clear that you are a vampire if you want a book to sell. There was nothing in any of them about blood red moons and the use of vampire blood aside from making vampire oil.  
Geralt frowned, the only thing he knew vampiric blood could be used in besides the oil, was to heal another vampire quicker. And that would only be useful if the blood came from a true higher vampire, and the user or consumer of the blood was a true higher vampire themselves. 

Combined with the fact that only higher vampires could truly kill other higher vampires, seemed to add up pretty well.  
Except it didn’t.

There was ancient law that forbade higher vampires to do so, and if they did, why bother with gathering the blood like that. In a basin or tub?  
Regis had also made it sound as if vampires knew instinctively when one of their own had been truly killed, and also who had done the deed. Geralt couldn’t quite make sense of that but he trusted Regis.  
Perhaps he should pay a certain other vampire a visit and ask her what she knew. If she acted shady about it, Geralt could be pretty sure he had found his culprit. 

He rode for Orianna’s estate the next day, had drunk a black blood potion for good measure. He trusted the woman about as much as he trusted a wort ridden hag in the swamps with ears around her neck for decoration.  
He didn’t even need to knock on the gates, for she stood outside of them, her gaze guarded.

“Witcher, come to make good on your promise?”

“Much as that would satisfy me, for your practice is vile, no. I’ve come to ask questions,” he left the saddle and came to stand right in front of her.

“Questions? Well, now I am certainly intrigued,” she eyed him with suspicion still. 

“Did you hear of the unnatural murder outside of town? the small farmstead family.”

“If you think I branched out or some other ridiculous-“

“The man was a higher vampire, and he’s as dead as can be, know anything about it?”  
The woman, if it was even possible for a vampire, seemingly paled.

“Dead? You must be mistaken, we don’t-“

“Die unless some of your own kills you, yeah I know. But he was very dead, not a drop of regeneration in him. All his blood had been drained, imagine animal after slaughter hung up to be drained for blood. His wife was chopped into a heap of meat with all her blood intact, and their son has yet to be found.”

“This cannot be… how did they evade detection?” her hand was over her mouth.

“Detection? Listen, I don’t care if he was a vampire, he looked to have led a decent life and people liked and respected him. I want to find out what happened, make sure it doesn’t happen again.”  
Orianna looked at him with harsh, scrutinizing eyes for a drawn out period, then looked down in resignation.

“When a higher vampire is killed, every pack member or old bond that vampire possess will feel the loss and will of course know it had to be someone of our own kind. If for some reason the vampire has no bonds or pack members, the Unseen Elder in the area will also feel the loss, and he will signalize every vampire out there that one of our own has marked themselves an outcast.”

“Alright, but who do you know did it?”

“Often they are observed, by other vampires, by critters in the employ of vampires. The Unseen Elder can also, through a form of divination I suppose, find out the culprit and whisper their name to other vampires. From there, the traitor’s name will spread like wildfire.”

“And you haven’t heard or… felt anything like that lately?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Perhaps he was isolated? The victim I mean, the woman he was together with was human.”  
“Only purists care about that and they are few in number these days, most of us realize it really doesn’t matter who you take on as a mate, or what. Did you know the supposed dead vampire’s name?”

“Huh… Tomasin or something like that,”

“Tomasin De Heut? It cannot be… I must go see at once!” 

There was no stopping the vampire woman as she rushed to get her horse and rode off, all Geralt could do was to keep up on the back of Roach. 

Orianna did indeed go to the very same farmstead. It had been cleaned up and people were working at clearing out the belongings.  
“Where is he?” Orianna near assaulted a guard that stood watch over the workers. “The man who died, where?!”

“B-burried in the back garden, a-as he had said he wanted, milady,” the guard stuttered and she stormed off.

“Close friends, sorry about that,” Geralt nodded to the poor guard before following her. Orianna was staring down at the two fresh graves. 

“I can’t feel anything…no other presence. I need to look at him.”

“You can’t dig up a corpse now, in broad daylight. Sit down and wait till everyone leaves.”  
She stared at him defiantly for a while, a stare he met with stoic calm. In the end she gave in and sat down on a bench.

Daylight was waning, and the workers were wrapping up for the day. Geralt was staring out over the fields behind the garden.

“You should know, I filed down his teeth before handing him over to the guards,” he said, not taking his eyes of the golden wheat that bent gently in the slight breeze.

“Whatever for?” 

“I reasoned that if anyone else spotted his two kept fangs and realized he was a vampire, it would spark a panic through the common folk, but also stop any fair investigation into what happened. Few of these people would care to stop a vampire-killer.”

“I…Suppose that is true, so thank you for that at least I guess.”

“Mhm…” he looked back to the house. “There, the guards just left as well. I’ll find a shovel.”

It was indeed Tomasin De Heut if Orianna’s enraged cry was anything to go by. She touched his cheek gently, closing her eyes, and then shortly after shaking her head and stepping back in disbelief.

“How, who did this!?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have come to you,” Geralt pointed out callously perhaps. 

“We had a bond, witcher, I was supposed to feel this happen! Yet I didn’t, how?” she glared.

“Don’t know, but the way he is cut, the way he was arranged when I got to the scene…It looked like it could have been one or several rituals involved,” he looked down at the unfortunate vampire, instead of decomposing like a human it almost looked as if he was about to melt, slowly. 

“Also, I was thinking this might have a connection to the blood red moon that hung over Toussaint some nights ago. Not so wild guess, seeing as they were found like this the following day, this happened together with the moon somehow.”

“I’ve never seen a moon like that, it didn’t look natural at all,”

“Well, this was a waste of my time,” he sighed and reached for the shovel to cover the grave once more. 

“No it was not, I will spread the word. The culprit will be found,” she grit her teeth.

“Considering this all happened and none of you noticed a thing, I’d issue a warning to be careful to then. Could be a onetime thing, sure, but we have no way of knowing. Also, if you do catch them, inform me so I don’t continue running in circles,” he said with a deadpan look. 

“Likewise witcher, and…I will take your warning to heart this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regis, where are you?


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning again for a minor graphic description of a mutilated body.

A week passed, and Geralt followed up on any and all leads he could find. Alas all of them ended in nothing fruitful. He soon found that not all vampires were as versed in their history and old customs as Regis had been, Orianna could give him nothing tangible. More often than not Geralt knew her information to be lacking. 

He was just leaving yet another fruitless visit to the Lady Orianna, when the voice of a protesting child caught his ear.

“But Mama, I swear, last night we really did see a red moon again!”

“Hush child, last night was cloudy, and the moon was only half, now stop spouting such nonsense you are not being funny!”

“But Mama-“

“I said no.”

Geralt looked at the pouting child that was being dragged along by his huffing mother, he had not seen a red moon last night either. But it had indeed been cloudy, he could have missed it. If he was right in his current theory though, that meant more blood had been spilled. And that blood could very well be vampire blood.  
He had only just finished the thought as a knight errant came sprinting up to him.

“Ser Geralt, there has been another murder!”

“Where, and who?”

“A lady Mofferat, at the Belles of Beauclair.”

“The brothel?” the witcher blinked.

“The lady had certain tastes, I do not judge ser,” the knight furrowed his brow.

“Of course, I’ll get there right away. Do not touch anything at the scene,” he demanded.

He went back to Orianna first and was let in to see her immediately. 

“Haven’t you bothered me enough for one day?” she asked, sourly.

“Do you know a lady Mofferat?”

She sat up straight from where she was lounging on a long chair. 

“Take that as a yes, she was just found murdered in a peculiar way in one of the rooms at the brothel.”  
He didn’t even need to ask the woman to come before she was rushing out the doors. 

It was a similar gruesome scene that met them. Lady Mofferat hang upside-down from the ceiling, her corpse mangled, her blood let into something that had stood on the floor. One could see it quite clearly here. A round shape on the floor that was free from blood spatter. 

“Was no one with her?” Geralt went back into the hallway to question the owner.

“Not at the time, no, after activities the lady always wished to be left alone to rest with flowery incense burning around her. She didn’t wish to be disturbed before midday, by a last set of activities and a bath before taking her leave. Dahlia here found her,” she showed to a scantily clad girl who was sniveling by herself, messing up her make-up, dragging it down her cheeks. 

Geralt nodded to the owner before walking over to Dahlia, in passing he noticed what looked like small puncture marks on her neck.

“Can you tell me what happened last night, and today before you found the lady like this? It would help me in my investigation of the matter,” he started in an as mild manner as possible.

Dahlia sniffed and looked up at him with her teary eyes, she nodded once.  
“Yesterday was just as usual, we were a group of girls first…Lady Mofferat has always been fun to entertain… and one of the most pleasant. Then she’d let the other girls go, except me because I am… was… her favorite you see. We’d have our own fun, I’m supposed to be the professional here, but she always managed to send me to the high heavens. Then she lets me rest till I wake up, then she sends me out to rest further in my own room and then come find her in the morning… “

“I see, did you see something as you went to wake her?”

“No, I went to get the rose oil as usual, all looked normal. Until I opened the door… oh…” she covered her face with her hands as a new bout of tears came pressing.

“Alright, thank you,” he turned back to the room, leaving the sniveling girl to be comforted by other ladies of the house.

Orianna was clearly having a hard time controlling her anger, to Geralt’s keen eyes it almost looked as if her skin was rippling. 

“Control yourself or get out, if they see you as anything else but a human lady we’ll all be sorry,” he hissed lowly for only her ears to hear.

“How can you be so callous, this is one of my people I-“

“And your people have slaughtered hundreds of my people which I have found during my years on the path, yes, moving on. I need to look for clues of the ritual, if there actually is a ritual.”

“I will go, I need to inform my brothers and sisters of another murder,” she was frowning heavily at him now.  
Geralt didn’t reply as she pushed past him briskly. 

There was little to be found in the room, but the floor carried traces of candles having been lit, tiny pieces of wax on the floor. That was one more count towards the ritual theory then.  
But other than that he found no further evidence of rituals. This murderer was clean and efficient it seemed. They could be getting help, but too many and they would have had to be spotted for sure. Unless it was a group of higher vampires, but that really made little sense to him.

The difference from the first body was that his one looked... more mutilated if that was even possible. One of her breasts was cut off with precision cuts. And more of the meat pieces were gone.

“Well, at least none of the organs appear to be gone,” he sighed to himself, before turning and leaving the room for someone else to fix. He remembered to warn them to hurry the burial so they didn’t get a pissed of wraith on top of everything. 

Now this was starting to piss him off, no clues, and no tracks to follow. It was as if he was failing to fulfill his purpose.  
There were books everywhere in his bedroom, he had moved most of Regis’ library to his home and he had gathered plenty book from bookshops in town too.  
But he was getting to the point where he was seriously reconsidering writing to one or both of the sorceresses, but it would be like biting into an unripe sour apple. Ugh, his mouth turned down at the very thought and he had no control over his facial features when such thoughts arrived. 

He hadn’t been to see Orianna anymore either, there was really no help in the angry woman. She was only getting angrier really, and spent the night staring at the sky and watching for even the tiniest hint of red in the dwindling moon.

She was starting to believe that this was somehow an attack on her, Geralt couldn’t see the connection though. To him, near all higher vampires knew or at least knew of one another. Then again, he didn’t really understand the finer parts and machinations of vampire culture, and the many guidelines that were seemingly present in their social life and codex.  
He kicked the foot of his desk and opted for an evening ride to pick up the last remnants of Regis’ library in the crypt. Things that lingered and waited in the dark did not worry a witcher after all.

The graveyard was its usual quiet self when Geralt swung his leg out of the saddle. Nothing looked changed or disturbed.  
He had left the door to the crypt unlocked so he went to simply push it open.

His hand was just shy of the door when it flew open, giving Geralt barely any time to dive off to the side and into the bushes.

“Who’s there?”  
Now that was a familiar voice, and long longed for.

“Regis?” Geralt poked his head out of the bushes to truly find his vampire friend staring at him with a puzzled look.

“Geralt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regis~


	6. Chapter 5

“I was ready to go on an absolute rampage, I’ll have you know.”

“You, on a rampage? I can almost picture the angry stomping Regis,” Geralt chuckled.  
They were inside the crypt, seated by the quite barren table after Geralt had made off with all the books and papers in the room.

“Besides, you left them unattended. Anyone could have taken them,” the witcher pointed out with a raised brow.

“I had to leave in quickly, and who besides witchers would voluntarily go into decrepit crypts?” the vampire shook his head, but was mostly smiles.

“Weird twits from Oxenfurth actually. He was an archeologist or some other that demanded we open the sarcophagus that actually held a live vampire, one more time to make sure there really was not historical treasure inside,” Geralt said dryly.

“Oh my, however did that go?” Regis was already looking amused, probably anticipating the answer.

“Vampire got angry, managed to explain the situation real quick before he blew up in our faces. Pulled the scholar nice and close and yelled “NO, and FUCK OFF!” before slamming himself back into the crypt,” Geralt imitated the offended vampire’s noble accent with great conviction.

“Tsk, tsk, not a morning person I understand,” Regis laughed. “Good that you managed to stop further bloodshed, not a skill usually paired with the trade witcher’s work.”

“When they’re not being a danger to others, there is no need to take them down. I recon those who are of a friendlier mind could perhaps teach others if left in peace.”

“Well now, when did you grow so wise my friend?” Regis grinned, teeth and all.

“No one ever asks why you know, they usually assume the monster was too much or that I’m a flop who let it get away. Doesn’t matter though, don’t care one whit about what most people think.” The witcher crossed his arms over his chest as he made the matter-of fact statement.  
“  
A freeing notion I’m sure, but tell me, I’m quite curious, why is it you are back in Toussaint?”

“Ah, things… didn’t work out with Triss, if you know of Triss Merigold?” he faltered a bit, he hadn't really told anyone how the end results had affected him. He had just, stayed quiet and let people think what they wanted. Regis though, Regis was someone he felt could perhaps understand him and his why.

“Hm, I’ve heard of her, knew she was part of your inner circle, but I have never met her. But I thought you were bound to Yennefer?”

“I was, but during our search for Ciri, Yennefer found a Djinn on Skellige. No wait, don’t ask about that just yet. Anyway, she freed it and in return had the magical bond between us broken. She wanted to see if it was truly real, that she wasn’t living a lie. She felt no different after the ordeal, but I… ah…” he struggled to phrase it in a manner that wouldn't be too callous and make him look like an utter prick at the same time.

“Truly? Huh, I never realized the magical bond had such strength and sway over you. Then again, the human mind is still quite the mystery to me sometimes.”

“I guess I anticipated it, with Yennefer it was always fight after fight, as I seemed to gather deeper understanding of consequences, and empathy through my travels… Yennefer remained unchanged and it…felt difficult even when we were still bonded.”

“I didn’t know her too well, but she does handle that ice cold persona rather well doesn’t she?” Regis gave him a meaningful look, complimented by sympathy of the not so annoying kind. It seemed utterly sincere.

“Too well sometimes, Triss gave me peace, a form of acceptance I felt I could be certain of. In reality though, I guess I’ve been used and manipulated by them both. Triss used my memory loss to get close, things became difficult after I regained my memories, remembered Yennefer,” he said with a sigh at the end, and looked into the flickering flame of the lit candle between them. 

“Even so, I was still drawn to Triss’ kindness, and her warmth. Yennefer was hurt of course, but we parted as friends after the whole ordeal with the hunt. I went to Kovir with Triss, to settle, those were the plans I mentioned 3 years ago,” he continued, growing more quiet now.

“Yes I remember, we didn’t get the chance to talk too much about that though.”

“Well, long story made a little shorter at least, it all went to shit. Yennefer came back, and the two of them started... I don’t even know. Felt like a bloody war. Both of them thought they could manipulate me as easily as before, I am damned adaptable though. I actually learn from my mistakes, so I left them both. I don’t want that kind of quarrel and strife to stay with me for the rest of my life," He tried to say it firmly, and the message came across, but the hurt made it through as well.

“Very understandable, and is it just my observations or do a few too many resourceful women fall back on manipulation to the point of destruction of some sort?”

“Who knows, Zoltan advised I lay off the ladies for a while,” he shrugged “Speaking of manipulative ladies, how’s Dettlaff. You found him I assume?” he steered the topic onto something else.

“I did, he was not in a good state, and was indeed far away from any kind of settlement. You think a cemetery is cliché Geralt, try a cave,” Regis shook his head. “He’s faring a little better now though, but he is incredibly distrustful of anyone who is not an animal or lesser vampire. So I wouldn’t try to claim he is in an ideal state,” the older man sighed. 

“Afraid of getting burned again, understandable, but why are you back here then, Regis?”

“I’ve heard something rather unsettling…” his friend said, now quietly.

“The vampire killings,” the witcher finished for him.

“You know of them?” he looked over at the white haired man, surprise evident in his eyes.

“I was the one who informed Orianna of the first, and second one. No one had any idea before she started spreading the word, as I understood it.”

“So you are on this as a case? How? Does the people of Toussaint even care a whit for a vampire found dead in their home?” Regis frowned.

“Not a vampire perhaps, but a good person who was respected by his community for sure. I filed down the first victim’s fangs so it would go unnoticed. The second victim already had flat teeth,” he recounted his reasoning briefly for the other. 

Regis stared at him for a moment, a look Geralt would get when the other was scrambling to find words that would best voice his thoughts.  
“I…thank you, Geralt,” Regis ducked his head in gratitude.

“No need for that, Regis, everyone deserves justice when injustice has occurred.”

“Well then, I am glad you are the one who is looking into it,” the vampire said, sounding truly relieved.

“I’d be very happy to have someone with me who actually knows of vampire lore, history and living.” He gave Regis a pointed look.

“Well, I am certain a certain someone will be more than happy to join you, just like old times,” the vampire smiled ear to ear, showing off his teeth again.

“Thank the gods then, Orianna is shite company.”  
Regis tipped his head back and laughed. 

 

It took convincing, a lot of convincing, but eventually Regis agreed to come to Corvo Bianco and stay in one of the guest rooms. It would just be all around more convenient for him to stay there with Geralt. First of all, all his books were there. Second, it would be safer for Regis with a vampire killer on the loose. And third, Geralt really liked Regis and enjoyed his company a lot. Added side bonus: better seating, light, food and drink.

When his friend began to fret and refuse to come on horseback with him, assuring he would come after on foot, Geralt rolled his eyes.  
And without further ado simply pulled Regis up into the saddle and nudged Roach into a trot, a sputtering vampire in front of him.

“What are you so flustered about, never been on horseback?” Geralt chuckled.

“Actually, no, and I am currently simply waiting for your mare to throw us off. Most animals do not like me.”

“Hey, me neither, this is a horse raised by a witcher though, won’t throw you off. There, there Regis, you can relax,” Geralt couldn’t lose the smug smile even if he had tried.

“Keep this up, and I will throw you off,” the usually amicable vampire grumbled, only causing his witcher friend to break out into a brief, but real laugh.   
Geralt couldn’t see his face like this anyway, so Regis let his lips tug up into a small smile.

He had indeed missed his witcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the horse thing: I wrote that down BEFORE I learned about the Hansa adventure. But, in that Regis apparently rides a mule? hah, we'll slap a sticker on it and say Mules just don't give a fuck, so they are an exception. Normal animals do not normally like vampires and witchers in this fic :P


	7. Chapter 6

They arrived at Corvo Bianco safely, with only the occasional chatter on the way.

“If you try to help me off like some distressed damsel Geralt,” Regis let the silent threat hang in the air.  
The witcher raised his hands, palms up and smile around his lips.

“No I know you have that whole, mattress on the stone floor thing down,” Geralt said as they began walking to the house, “Not one to turn down such options myself either, it’s a step above the ground after all. But Regis, the beds B.B got for this place is magical.”

“Magical beds, what do they do? Sing lullabies?”

“Oh ha, you are losing your sharp wit friend, if that was the best you could do. Seriously though, I’m this close to being very unwilling to part with my very nice bed.”  
“See you say that now, but sooner or later you will end up outside again, waking up with dew on your face,” the vampire hummed.

“Well sure, I like the outdoors, but damn is it nice to have this to come back to,” he opened the door for him before following.

“Oh, Master Geralt you’re back!” Barnabas-Basil hurried to his feet from where he was seated and playing Gwent with Marlene.

“Calm down B.B, nothing wrong with a game of Gwent.”

“It’s such an interesting game, it’s very good of Barnabas-Basil to take the time to teach me, who is your guest?” the elderly woman smiled at Regis.

“This is my very good friend Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy,” Geralt said smoothly.

“Ah, Regis will do fine,” the vampire almost looked a little astonished that the witcher could say his full name without even one stumble.

“And he will stay here with us, he’s helping me with my current investigations.”

“Of course sir, I shall go air the bed dressing at once!” Barnabas-Basil nodded and was about to turn towards the stairs.

“B.B, you aired them not long ago and it is already late, it’ll be fine.”

“More than,” Regis nodded to the man who looked scandalized at such a notion, the vampire hurried to follow Geralt who was heading up the stairs. The white haired man led him through one bedroom that they walked right into at the top of the stairs, then through a door to another that was equipped with a desk and bookshelves.

“Here, you’ll have a bit more privacy, also, a lot of your books are here. I have a pretty advanced alchemy lab in the cellar, also made a new room down there for training.”

“Are you trying to seduce me into staying here forever, Geralt?” the vampire chuckled at his joke.

“Wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to move in, I like your company and I trust you completely,” the usually stoic man replied firmly. Regis felt his mouth loosen for the second time that day, he was again at a loss for words as a foreign warmth began spreading through him. The closest he came to compare the sensation was that of drinking blood, but that was a wholly different warmth. More like a wildfire that both pleased and ravaged him when he had over-indulged in his youth. 

This warmth was far more pleasant, only pleasant, and fully confusing.

“But we’ll talk more tomorrow, I’ve rested poorly these last days. With you here though, my mind is already more at ease with this case. I dare bet I’ll rest a little easier now that I have you back with me, good night Regis,” Geralt ducked his head once with a smile.

“Ah, good night Geralt,” he managed to scramble before the other man was out the door. He couldn’t even hear him descend the stairs, one day he would find out if the witchers really had no vampire genes or not in them. 

He went to the shelves, and saw that a lot of them really were his books from the crypt. Some of them he had even taken with him from his only other home in Dillingen. He pulled a few from their places and laid them out on the desk with the intent of leafing through them, just as a distraction. 

His eyes instead flitted to the bed, it did look rather inviting… He couldn’t really remember when he last slept in such lavish bedding.  
He undressed till he was only in his long tunic and leggings, before he crawled under the heavy blanket, it warmed him instantly and the feeling was heavenly. Even if vampires had no real need for sleep, his eyelids became heavy all the same with the feeling of warmth and safety hanging over him. He succumbed easily to his light, restoring sleep. 

He woke to laughter downstairs, and sat up rather groggily. When he actually slept nowadays, he’d slip into regeneration that still wasn’t fully complete after that whole brought back to life ordeal.  
Even so, his sharpened senses could pick up his friend’s voice from below talking to his cook it seemed. 

He swung his feet out from the bed, sleep had gripped him harder than he had first though, for he near wobbled a bit as he stood. He dressed and headed downstairs where the air was filled with the scent of fresh baked goods. 

“Morning Regis, seeing as you weren’t first up I dare say you actually slept,” Geralt smirked with a knowing look, to which Regis simply sighed.

“Guilty as charged,” he caved as he took a seat opposite to Geralt.

“Heh, it’s good to know you could rest easy. It’s an unfamiliar feeling at first, but one that was rather nice to get used to,” the witcher smiled at him, and he found himself smiling back at him.

“Now, you better eat something, I know you don’t have to but Marlene will spoon feed you herself if she sees you haven’t any crumbs on your plate.”

“Well then, I shall gladly indulge,” Regis reached for what looked like a croissant. “Where did you get yourself a cook like that, if you don’t mind me asking? You seem on good terms as well.”

“Hm, remember that spotted wight your ravens found for us when we needed that rare component?”

“Mm, indeed, never got around to ask you how you actually managed to gather a spit sample from it, does this mean you didn’t kill it?”

“Not exactly, Marlene was the wight.”  
The bite of croissant got stuck in his throat as he chocked in surprise, he pounded on his chest a bit before managing to swallow. He could feel how wide his eyes were as they stared at the witcher.

“I know right? You were right about the curse, so I decided to wait and see, try to figure it out. Luckily my solution worked, Marlene was in a terribly weakened state when she turned back into a human though. I took her here, and she had nowhere to go so I let her stay so long as she’s happy and content here.”

“That’s… well, quite the tale. And it speaks towards your compassion, my friend, even larger than what I thought I knew of it.”

“Huh, still waters run deep?” the other smiled into his cup.

 

The day was spent bringing Regis up to speed with all Geralt knew and had so far found out. The former healer agreed to his ritual theory, but was just as puzzled as Geralt as to how anything other than a higher vampire could kill a higher vampire.

“I am guessing there are more of the true higher vampires here because of how special Toussaint are to you?”

“You are guessing correctly, but I cannot help to wonder if a Katakan will do as well for our culprit? The higher vampires will be exceedingly hard to find now that there have been two killings, no one can claim it a fluke or chance any longer.”

“Unless the murderer has found a way to locate higher vampires, the Unseen can do it, perhaps they have tapped into that somehow?”

“A truly disturbing theory,” Regis shuddered.

They had also discussed at length the seemingly gathering of vampire blood that was taking place during the killings.  
Regis explained that if it wasn’t willingly given from a vampire to another, the regeneration properties fell significantly. If someone needed it to regenerate faster they would easily need more than triple the amount if it had been freely given. 

“But you also said that you don’t eat the flesh of your own kind, or most kind actually, yet pieces of flesh are gone from the scene," Geralt pointed out.

“It doesn’t match the vampire did it-theory, no,” he crossed his arms over his chest and bent his head. “All creatures who come to mind, that eat flesh mind you, none of them are even near intelligent or, indeed, coherent enough to take on a higher vampire. Not to mention in such an orderly and obviously staged manner,” he met the cat eyes of his friend, who in turn nodded.

“Yeah, no I’ve never seen a necrophage act this subtle to say the least.”

“I supposed we could try to walk around, I could see if I could get a whiff of vampire blood in my nose, but I seriously doubt it. It is, very weakly at that, grasping at straws.”

“Mhm, and I think Orianna has run around all the city and put her nose against door cracks for the last couple of days.”  
Regis couldn’t help the small snort that left him at the image his mind conjured for him, he recovered somewhat with a slight cough. 

“Well, then I fear we may need to have a chat with someone versed in all things magical.” 

The groan that came from Geralt was anticipated. 

“Well, do you have someone else you can contact that knows of such things?”

“I’d send Eilhart a letter, but to my knowledge her eyes are still pretty gouged out. Even so, I’d probably end up just forming the middle finger on paper for her.”

“You have an extraordinary relationship with most sorceresses I see.”

“Literally, all the magic wielders I know of are assholes or manipulative hussies…Okay that last one was a bit unfair, let’s go with manipulative hussies or manipulative arrogance incarnates,” he grumbled, then looked up at his bemused vampire friend. “Well, except Ciri, but I don’t think she knows much on this subject, also, haven’t got a clue where she is now. Left with barely a note, again.”

“We do not have much of a choice I believe.”

“Oh fine, I’ll send Yennefer a letter and ask if she knows of anything. Don’t be surprised if she send out an exploding letter back though, or some nasty hex, or just some profanities directed at yours truly.”

“I’ve no doubt I can put you back together should any exploding happen, it will be worth the try to contact her. We are quite stuck in threads of mystery and too little information.”  
The witcher simply sighed in a suffering manner at him, before going to get ink and paper. Regis watched him grumble his way through a letter draft, stopping to furrow his brow over wordings in the letter no doubt. 

The vampire smiled to himself and took the time to study his friend as he was bent over parchment. In hot weather Geralt seemed to favor his head shaved at the sides and the rest of his hair gathered in a ponytail. With a clean shaved face he looked rather handsome where he fretted over the letter.  
With his hair gathered in the back as it was, and wearing only a plain shirt, Regis had free view of the other’s neck. Usually when he caught himself lingering too long on a human neck, he was quick to move his eyes in case the old flames of unhealthy bloodlust rose in him again.

It was with great surprised he realized his mouth wasn’t watering for blood of any kind, another desire whispered low in his gut. To maybe touch, feel, run his tongue over the pulse to hear a gasp-  
He snapped out of his train of thought and pushed his hands underneath himself where he sat, lest they start wandering on their own.  
Geralt looked up at him, and Regis found he didn’t have to force a smile at all. 

It came quite naturally.


	8. Chapter 7

Geralt had to start over four times on the letter before he was somewhat pleased with the result. He hadn’t been rude, was perfectly polite and had not included anything personal in the letter. It was a suitably professional request for knowledge.  
He nodded to himself as he finally stood, he glanced over at Regis but he had his nose buried in a book like it held secrets that could only be discerned through touch. For all he knew, it might be another secret vampire mechanism. 

He found B.B out in the gardens and handed him the letter.

“Of course sir, I shall have a suitable courier carry this, does the lady have an address?”

“She’s a member of the Lodge, last I knew she was in Kovir, the letter isn’t personal so it could really go to any of them, but I think Yennefer of Vengerberg would possess the most relevant knowledge.”

“Of course, I will see to this right away, would you perhaps like to take supper outside today?” Barnabas-Basil gave a slight bow.

“Sure, but don’t worry about it, will fix it up myself,” Geralt said with a nod.

 

“Come on Regis, food time,” he declared as he stepped inside.

“What, again?” Regis looked up at him and blinked.

“It’s already late afternoon, be glad I’ve managed to persuade B.B and Marlene that I don’t need five meals a day, I’d do nothing but eat,” he hummed in reply, and had to smile at the vampire gape around a silent ‘five?!’.

 

They helped carry some food out to where a table was set up looking over a part of the vineyard, and with the sun still up it was quite the charming little spot.

“Marlene won’t be joining us?” the other asked.

“Some other day maybe, she’s hooked on trying her hand in Gwent with some of the workers today,” Geralt chuckled.

“Hm, we should try a hand sometime too you know. I must admit, I’m quite eager to see how you strategize in a card game,” Regis pondered freely with him.

“Oh, just admit you want to thoroughly trounce me at something you are probably way better at than most,” Geralt shook his head, but smiled at Regis’ short bout of laughter.

“Not at all my friend, I’ve only played Gwent a handful of times,” He chuckled.

“What? Seriously, how?” the witcher shook his head in disbelief.

Regis just shrugged before pouring them both some of the wine. “Never had many to play with, always had to borrow a deck.”

“Well then, you can take your pick from my cards. I have too many already,” Geralt decided, and there was nothing that could dissuade him either. 

 

He got his cards after some of the food had been eaten, and he laid them out for Regis to take his pick. The vampire looked intensely concentrated as he picked up each card and weighed the pros and cons, it was utterly adorable. Geralt smiled as he watched his friend slowly assemble a card deck for himself.  
The way Regis held himself around Geralt, not quite so guarded as he usually was, freely showing fangs and sharp fingernails… It warmed Geralt, the warmth resembled a lot of the heat he had first felt with Yen when the thing between them had barely been. Yet, this heat was different as well. With Yen there had been an intense lust for her shapely body too of course, but also a fear of falling short and a constant need to guard himself around her for almost everything.  
How he spoke, what he said, how he was, what interested him, what he did for a living… 

With Regis he felt at ease, and he looked at him… and found he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have the other underneath him, or above… or anywhere really. Regis was, in appearance, lither than him. In reality he could easily throw Geralt across any room.  
The thought of having that power with him, in any way Regis was willing, it sent shivers through him. And the thought of being able to just be open and free of shame over himself after the throes of passion had passed…The heat spread to his face and he had to busy himself looking down at Gwent cards himself to hide the faint blushing.  
He wondered if vampires could actually blush or if their skin stayed unchanged no matter what. 

These thoughts needed to stop before Regis noticed and thought him to be ill or something, perhaps make him reach out and feel for a fever…  
Regis’ hands were cool to the touch, but surprisingly soft if memory served correctly.

“Geralt?”

“Huh?” He near shook his head as he was pulled from his treacherous thoughts, Regis was looking at him, brow arched. 

“I said, I think I have picked out a good deck, are you alright my friend?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just got a bit lost in a thought there for a moment, sorry.”

“Not to worry my friend, happens to me more often than not. Dettlaff once actually believed I had entered a sort of trance, he couldn’t get in contact with me even though he was right in front of me. Haha, scared us both when I suddenly snapped out of it,” he chuckled warmly.

“Two vampires startling because one of them snapped out of a daze, now that I think I’d give a lot to see,” Geralt grinned, to which Regis simply snorted and began shuffling his deck. 

 

They played, and Geralt had been correct about Regis trouncing him at every move. The vampire seemed to remember every bloody card Geralt had put out and could easily out maneuver him. When Geralt suddenly won a match he looked up at the other with great suspicion.

“We’re not playing so you can go pity me and let me win like I’m some toddler you know,” He grumbled at the other.

“I’m not, I do assure you,” Though the shit eating grin spoke a different truth.

“Anyone else, Regis, and I’d have them to a round of brawl. But since you’d probably wrestle me down into the vines maybe not,” He huffed and shook his head, a smile spilling forth despite his best effort at keeping it at bay. 

“I’d need to change form to be that effective, rather not thank you,” He snorted.

“Really? Wanna wrestle?”

“Hah, I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you. You did honestly improve a lot in just a few matches though Geralt, there’s hope for you yet I am certain. Now, how about we crack open the last bottle we have here?”

“Good idea, and they were good matches,” Geralt reached for the bottle and used his teeth to pull the cork out. When he looked up, Regis was staring. “What?”

“Now I absolutely refuse to believe you are not part vampire, Geralt, you have fangs!”

“Pf, you realize there are a lot of creatures with fangs out there that the gene could come from, hm?”

“Certainly, but you appear most human. Not to mention all the things you have learned about our culture, and our history. You spared Dettlaff when all that nasty business with Syanna was going on, found a different route. By that at least you deserve to be honorary half-vampire!”

“Heh, well if you say so. Now, can I use that when a pissed off Katakan, half drunk on drunkard’s blood, comes charging at me?”

“Hm…probably not,” Regis sighed with what appeared as near true sorrow.

“Still, I’m honored Regis and I’ll gladly be a honorary half-vampire for you if you so wish. With my small fangs and heightened senses, I lust for blood sometimes too. Though, not as drink,” he offered the bottle to the other after taking a swig. 

Regis eyed him for a moment with an odd glint in his eyes that Geralt couldn’t truly recognize…But every kind of look Regis gave him was currently making his heart do silly things, like beat a little harder or eve skip a beat. If he didn’t know his own heartbeat and heart’s behavior he might have been worried.  
The gray haired man took the bottle and took a great gulp of it himself, “to honorary vampires then,” he winked at him. Geralt accepted the bottle back with a smile.

They passed the bottle back and forth for a while in amicable silence as the sun went down, and the night sky took over. 

“You know, if B.B saw us like this, passing the bottle between us… He’d probably throw a fit. Could be interesting to see him truly riled up,”

“Whatever for? I mean, why would he be riled up?”

“Losing some eloquence there Regis, like my wine do you?” 

“It has an excellent taste, but I’m thinking a bit of mandrake cordial of my own make could be a nice add.”

“You’ll have to make some then, alchemy lab down in the cellar is yours to use as you want you know.” Geralt took only a small sip as the bottle was near empty, he offered the last sip to Regis.

“Thank you, but really, why would your Majordomo throw a fit over this?”

“Why Regis, we are not using our glasses. Drinking from fine wine as common thugs,” Geralt adopted his mocking noble-speech.  
His friend snickered “Ah, Geralt, I’m really glad you’re here and that ran into you. Coming back to Toussaint and not having you here would have been a very sad state of affairs.”

“Regis, that feeling is very mutual. I don’t think you realize just how happy I am that you showed up.”

“Hm, perhaps you can show me later,” the other hummed.

Geralt’s mind short-circuited at that moment, “what?” he couldn’t get his voice to work properly so it came out more like a quiet croak.  
Which, by all appearances, went unnoticed by the vampire as he continued on.

“Though, will you be so happy with me once we get the reply from Yennefer, if it is a scathing as you predict? I did twist your arm on that a little.”

“Oh… Ah, well no I’m sure it’ll be fine. And I certainly don’t blame you for how Yennefer might treat me in the future you know. Not that unreasonable. Also, I had thought of it before you came, needed a good push to do it though,” he floundered a bit, but managed to catch himself somewhat gracefully.

“You’re losing more eloquence, my friend, think perhaps it is time to retire,” Regis stood from his seating.

“You’re probably right, before I end up in a dress again,”

“What?” Regis sounded like all breath had left him as he stared at Geralt in surprise.

“Tell you later,” he waved his hand.

“You know, I will hold you to that!”

Geralt chuckled as he followed Regis inside.  
If the future allowed, he would tell Regis everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed the idea that Geralt having tiny fangs (larger canines than most humans) is something Regis finds oddly attractive, as I first read in caffeinatedmusing's series The Care and Feeding of Vampires! This is a headcanon I more than gladly accept!!


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild warning for light description of dead people, and my attempt at writing a fight scene!

Regis was familiarizing himself with Geralt’s alchemy lab, it was indeed well equipped. The witcher had also begun stocking it with all manners of growths and substances. The mandrakes smelled near fresh and would do excellent.   
He also found all the other ingredients that he preferred, even down to his special, secret ingredient. He hummed to himself as he got to work. Even with the dark happenings hanging over their heads, it was nice to just do wholly simple things like this. Or eating and playing Gwent with Geralt.

Last night had been…very nice. He might have slipped a few words he shouldn’t, but Geralt had hardly reacted to them, so he supposed all was fine. He didn’t quite get why his tongue loosened so readily now though. Was it because Geralt was no longer tied to a sorceress?   
Ugh, humans were much more finicky when it came to preference. He knew this from observation and research. He had only ever seen Geralt with ladies, or heard about Geralt with women. He very much doubted that Geralt would ever go for him with a history like that.   
So these thoughts, and even one dream when he had laid down his head to rest that night, had to be pushed aside as something impossible. He could perhaps entertain the thoughts a little when he was by himself, later when he surly had to part ways with the witcher again.   
The prospect wasn’t a very cheery one, so he wrapped up the preparations and left the Mandrake cordial to simmer properly. 

He found Geralt immediately upon stepping outside in the gray autumn light. The witcher sat on the bench on his porch, letter in hand.

“Anything about the case in that?” he asked as he stepped up to him.

“Yeah, actually. I wrote Eskel some time ago, after the first murder. Asked if he had heard or seen anything like this before, a long shot I know. Beggars can’t be choosers.”  
“I remember you talking about him him, a fellow witcher. And? Does he have anything to add?”

“Sorta, I guess? He hasn’t seen anything like this before, not heard a lot about it either. Eskel usually avoids true higher vampires, if there is a contract I mean. Most of us do since it really is no point, so I guess that’s not a surprise. He, however, asks if we’ve thought about the possibility of suicide?”

“As in, a vampire taking its own life? Huh… I’ve… come to think of it, I don’t really know, never thought about it. But he doesn’t suggest they hung themselves up down, stripped meat from themselves and then killed themselves, does he?”

“No, apparently he ran our problem by Lambert who is currently travelling with a sorceress. She’s the one who suggested that perhaps someone was doing powerful control magic to force them into being compliant. Then, Eskel thought ‘What if the vampire is being controlled into killing themselves and then the culprit does their weird shit’.”

“Fascinating, morbid, but fascinating all the same… There could be something to this theory,” He sat down, propping his chin on his hand. “Considering that by all knowledge, a vampire killing another should in some form be felt, at least by the unseen. If he would feel a vampire taking his or her own life though…? It could well be the case that he doesn’t.”

“This means though, that this is some hefty magic is control, so hefty it marks the moon. At least now we know what to do before the next half moon, no time to get it done by tomorrow’s new moon I reckon.”  
Regis looked up at him, question in his eyes.

“Find a megascope, mess around with it till we can use it to center in on massive surges of magic in the area," Geralt smiled.

Regis nodded “Now there’s a tangible idea indeed, any notion where to find a megascope though?”

“Yep, there is one in an abandoned lab. Underwater. Here in Toussaint, I’ll go and get it,” the witcher stood.

“Wait, what? Underwater? Abandoned lab? Geralt, hang on!”

“Later Regis, will tell you later,” The witcher waved as he descended the steps and headed to Roach’s stable.   
That man was incorrigible, Regis crossed his arms and huffed. He could easily follow him, both seen and unseen if he so wished. Instead he called to one of his ravens and bid that to follow Geralt and make sure he didn’t do something too stupid. 

 

He had made up his mind to follow Geralt when one hour had passed, he didn’t want to admit it but he was a little miffed he had been left behind like this.   
He sat on the porch, arms crossed over his chest as he waited. 

“Oh, Regis, you’re here,” Marlene’s voice broke through his internal huffing, he turned to look at her. “Barnabas-Basil is still in Beauclair, and I really need some help with some sweets I am making. I forgot how much they flow all over the place once you have to work the mass. I don’t mean to trouble you, but, could you perhaps help me for a turn?”

“Don’t have much experience with baking, certainly not sweets, but I shall try my best,” Regis stood, and couldn’t for the life of him picture sweet Marlene as a spotted wight hissing at everyone who came near. 

Being a kitchen help to Marlene certainly passed the time, the sticky mess that was supposed to eventually become hard candy was so hot even Regis winced as he accidently got some of the yet not cooled sugary mass on his fingers.

“Oh no, you should dip that in water,” Marlene fretted.

“Not to worry, I’m fine,” He smiled to her before putting the burnt fingers in his mouth. The ache vanished quickly, and instead he could focus on the sweet cherry taste that filled his mouth.

“Huh, these are very good,” He commented once he pulled his fingers out.

“Old recipe, I know Master Geralt doesn’t want to admit it, but I know he likes sweet things. Better to just make them and set them in front of him then, instead of waiting for him to ask for it,” the cook huffed.

“Hah, I’m sure he appreciates it,” Regis chuckled. His friend didn’t exactly look like someone who’d been over-fed with sweets growing up.

 

By the time Regis finished helping Marlene out, he was roped into peeling potatoes for dinner as well, Geralt had managed to return, carrying a complete megascope with him. 

“Told you I’d get it done quick- what happened to your fingers?”

“Marlene insisted on wrapping them with salve after I burnt myself, I didn’t protest. I seem more human if I have apparent scrapes and bruises, yes?”

“How the hell did you burn your fingers?” the witcher asked, voice incredulous. 

“Why that, is a secret dear Geralt. You’ll see soon enough. I’ll go and have a look at my brew, if you don’t mind. I’ll need more than a day to tune a megascope towards magical surges after all,” Regis felt more at ease at once now that he knew Geralt was safe and back in one piece. 

And really, this was ridiculous, he was acting as if Geralt was a young’un and fresh in his pack. Geralt was neither… Well alright, Geralt was the closest thing Regis had to a pack member besides Dettlaff who was his blood brother.  
He shook his head at himself mostly as he made his way down into the cellar where the aromatic smell of mandrake cordial was starting to fill the air.

 

They had crossed their fingers that since no moon was up at all tonight, there wouldn’t be a ritualistic killing. No moon to paint red after all.  
They took their late dinner outside all the same however, occasionally glancing at the darkening sky. When darkness overtook and the clearing sky was littered with stars, they turned their attention to a game of Gwent.  
It was only when a raven landed in the middle of their game, cawing intently that they snapped their eyes back to the sky.

“I don’t see no red,” Geralt managed before Regis gave a small gasp.

“Geralt, he says there’s already violence happening!” the vampire urged after listening to the frantic caws.

“He say where?”  
Regis nodded mutely, and Geralt didn’t need further prompting.

 

He had set ahead first, his body becoming the intangible mist higher vampires were famous for. It took some strain to perform this, especially in his weakened form. But the wind was in his back, so he let that push him to ease the journey somewhat.   
He thought he could almost hear Geralt behind him, pushing his Roach to a near punishing pace.   
The place they were heading to, Regis knew of it. An abandoned farmstead that a small vampire family had taken and turned around, monster dens surrounding it be damned. They weren’t well known, but traded occasionally with others nearby. 

He manifested in his more monstrous form once he landed in front of the main house, claws extended. He could smell fresh vampire blood and made a low growling sound in his throat as he approached the house.  
He didn’t sense anyone inside though, so his claws reverted into sharp fingernails, his features becoming more human again as he opened the door.   
It was just as horrific as Geralt had explained, something must have happened, because there was blood still dripping from the two bodies hanging from a beam in the ceiling. They weren’t as mangled yet as Geralt had described the former corpses he had seen, but clear to see that the mangling had begun.   
They had been interrupted.

“Shit…too late,” Geralt came in the door behind him.

“But only just, they must have sensed me somehow. I thought I felt a murderous presence just before I manifested properly,” Regis replied as he looked around the macabre scene.   
There were candles in a circle around both the hanging victims, something had probably stood in the center. There were traces of runes drawn in blood, but the blood dripping from the hanging bodies had already obscured them too much for them to be deciphered. 

“Well, right about the ritual thing at least, and that they actually like to take their damn time,” Geralt sheathed his silver blade. 

“Indeed, and it is tied with the moon and a great deal of vampire blood. And also flesh.”

“Candles placed in a fashion that reminds me of binding agents, either for summoning or stabilizations,” the witcher noted as he walked around the room.

“And one of the culprits is human,” Regis continued.

“How do you know?” he itcher turned sharply against him, brow arched.

“Smelled it,” Regis tapped his nose “and the scent lingers, and no, it isn’t you. I know your scent by heart, and it is nothing like most humans,” he added.

“Huh, able to sense more about the attacker, or attackers?”

“The smell of vampire blood is overpowering, I cannot sense anyone else besides the two poor ones hanging from the ceiling.”

“Well, we know at least one human is responsible, I seriously doubt there is just one though.”

“I agree, but Geralt, this couple had a young son. I don’t see him, or sense him, in here,” Regis wrinkled his nose as he tried to discern the quickly fading scents.

“Shit, not another lost kid. Worth taking a look around though, since it seems we managed to at least interrupt them some,” Geralt strode back out the door. 

 

They hadn’t even managed to look around any corners before a wounded howl sounded as an oppressive fog gathered in the distance and approached at a supernatural pace.

“What?” the vampire frowned at the direction the sound had come from.

“Fiend, what the hell is a fiend doing here? watch out for that freaky third eye, it can mesmerize you,” Geralt already had his silver sword out, falling into fighting stance. 

“Anything else?” Regis took to his other form, voice turning a little more gravelly. 

“They’re built like a damned mountain, and use raw strength, get behind it.”

The fiend descended upon them with a great roar and didn’t spare any thought to even take in its foes. It acted like a wounded animal, which paired with the fact that it wasn’t in its natural habitat at all made Geralt spare a moment to ponder at the cause in a brief pause in the battle.   
It lasted only a short moment, before he had to dodge to left to avoid the wicked antlers as the fiend swung its head towards him with great force.  
It likely hadn’t fought vampires before, Geralt had his hands full just dodging out of the way as the fiend tried to follow Regis. The vampire moved like wind in-between deep slashes with his claws. 

He got in low and swung at the fiend’s leg, the cut went deep, but for his trouble Geralt was now too close and the fiend lashed out. He was sent flying against the building, crashing against the wall with a groan.   
Fucking fiends. He swore under his breath and crawled to his knees, when looking up again he saw the Regis had frozen in his spot and was staring towards him.

“Regis, move!”   
Too late, the fiend managed to slam a clawed leg on top of Regis who gave a loud pitched shriek in surprise.  
Geralt got up on his feet quickly, gripping his sword tight end rushed the fiend who was now fixing a struggling Regis with its gaze. Leaving its neck open to attack.  
He stabbed his sword in viciously, grabbing his steel sword and leaving the silver inside the fiend who wobbled as its life was ebbing out. He managed to grab Regis and haul him to the side before delivering the final blow.

The fiend was just moving its head against him when the sword hit it and ultimately ended it. The sheer force of the pushback though, sent Geralt stumbling back onto the ground. He tried to twist himself around so he could stop the fall somewhat with his arms.   
Instead he landed on top of a winded Regis.

“Shit, sorry, you alright?”

“All’s in order, you are a whole lot lighter than that creature,” Regis had softened his face back into its more human features.

“Well, I am supporting my weight some with my arms so you don’t really know that yet do you?”

Regis shook his head in disbelief “you were just thrown across the yard and into a wall, and you find this the right time to joke?”

“Hey, being thrown about by monsters is part of the job, nothing broken here. Or at least nothing that won’t fix itself pretty soon,” He chuckled down at his friend. Couldn’t really explain why he hadn’t moved away yet. But then, Regis wasn’t complaining either, or moving away.

“I’m not seeing this cut healing yet,” Regis reached up and touched his cheek gently.  
The rush of adrenaline, added with this calming warmth made Geralt’s chest tingle. He hid it behind a smile that was probably way softer than he intended. 

“Fine, so I don’t regenerate at the speed of light like you do, still, this cut will be gone in the morning.”  
Regis pulled his hand back, and simply smiled back up at him, relieved. 

“Right, we should get back to ah… looking for… what were we looking for again?” Geralt pushed himself up and rocked backwards so he was crouched, Regis sat up.

“The son,” He chided. 

“Right, we make one hell of a fighter team though Regis. If it wasn’t so important for you to stay away from blood, I would suggest we make this a permanent thing,” the witcher stood and held out his hand for Regis to grab.

“No offense, but I’d rather not,” the vampire replied as he grabbed the offered hand and let himself be helped up back into a standing position.

“I know, I know, besides, I want you to be healthy and at peace. Wading in guts and gore won’t do you any good. I’ll make sure to duck myself in water before coming back home, in case a rothfiend explodes over me or something.”

“Ew… that sound entirely disgusting, so I thank you for the consideration,” Regis shook his head with a small smile.

The near giddy feeling soon died down as they were forced to face the reality once more. Regis went on to search for the boy, while Geralt took care of the two bodies inside.   
Regis had been sure that this family wasn’t on any official papers of the duchy, so Geralt suggested just burying them at once with a simple ritual. The vampire had agreed quietly. 

He had just finished covering the graves, he had found a nice spot under a willow in the garden. Regis came out with someone clutching his vest.  
Geralt had never seen a vampire cry, didn’t know if they were capable. Looked like this one could at least…  
He crouched down to make himself less intimidating as Regis walked over, his hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“You’re safe now,” the witcher said quietly to the boy.  
Pale eyes moved away from him and to the two fresh graves, fresh set of tears breaking forth.  
He moved away from Regis and over to Geralt, stood beside him and regarded the graves silently. The witcher rose as well and took a step back till he was shoulder to shoulder with Regis. Giving the young vampire some space.

“I’ll take him to Orianna’s place, she has an orphanage I hear.”

“She does, do you know what she uses it for?” Geralt replied lowly.

“Well, now I certainly have a strong notion. We’ll talk about it later, for now I am certain she will take him in and care for him personally. I think she knew this family, she probably knows most of the vampires who have settled in Toussaint.”  
The witcher only gave a low hum in reply before looking over to the many flowers, he went over and picked a few before walking back to the graves.

“For safe passage to whatever lies beyond, may you find your road to the eternal peace.” He laid down some of the flowers on the two graves.

“And you will be missed, never forgotten,” He offered the remaining blossoms to the boy who eyed him quietly before accepting them and laying them down gently on the graves, whispering his love to his parents.

Behind them Regis observed, and his heart ached.  
It ached for this poor child who had lost his parents before he had properly realized he would have close to eternity to miss them.  
And it ached on a wholly different level for the compassion and empathy the witcher truly held within, even for those who by other men were classified as monsters and beasts. 

He was only starting to realize just how much of his heart Geralt had captured.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild warning for description of dead people

The boy had hid on his parents’ orders, they had sensed something. He told the two men that he had spotted two people, but he didn’t know what or who they were as he hadn’t quite gotten his vampiric senses just yet.  
He also apologized for summoning the fiend, apparently his father had struck a deal with a fiend some time ago. He hadn’t been able to activate its summoning before they were attacked. When Regis and Geralt had arrived, the boy had mistaken them for the attackers and activated the stone.

Just how someone who was not a creepy crone had struck a deal with a fiend… Geralt wasn’t even sure if he really wanted to know.

They parted ways when they reached Corvo Bianco, as Regis needed to deliver the boy to Orianna and Geralt opted out of that meeting. He patted the boy on the shoulder and told him he had been very brave, and that all was forgiven about the fiend.

“Maybe I’ll teach you proper fencing one time when you’ve gained a little height,”

“Really? Oh, I’d like that very much,” He actually got a little smile from the boy and smiled back. He would be okay with some time to aid the grieving process.  
Geralt waved to the boy as he vanished from sight down the hill together with Regis.

 

The next day the two of them got to work with the megascope. They only had about a week before the half-moon arrived, and their culprits had proved rude enough to not give a damn about heightened unrest and added vigilance among the vampires.

“The other has to be a vampire, it’s the only way I can explain the lack of tracks outside the buildings these murders took place in.”

“Or both are actually strong sorcerers or sorceresses and used teleportation,” Geralt added, thinking back to Eskel's theory of controlling magic.

“That is also true, and with the magic we already have established as involved…It is pretty safe to believe at least one of the murderers is a magic user. However, it could be a vampire and mage pairing,” Regis frowned again as he continued to think. “But, as already established, even magic cannot pin point a vampire’s location. While other vampires can actually track vampires who are not actively hiding.”

“So every vampire in Toussaint should actually not want to be found right now?”  
“Probably, but that would mean disappearing, vanishing from their daily lives. It would break appearances for some. Others, I imagine, wish to be found for they believe they can take the culprit out with their justified anger and rage.”

“Hm, the need for vengeance often hinders common sense and reason.”

“Too true,” Regis nodded.

“Well, we better get this thing to work then,” Geralt pointed to the megascope he had set up, but not tuned.

“I’ll find the book,” Regis sighed and stood.

 

The half-moon was approaching fast, and vampire and witcher spent many long evenings and nights side by side working on the megascope and going through what they knew so far.  
Regis had taken to writing some vampire associates of his, to ask for knowledge and urge them to be mindful and to take care in these troubling times.

Geralt had replied to Eskel, thanked him for the help and answered some of the more personal questions in that had been within his letter.  
He was on his way to find B.B when a knock happened upon his door. He arched a brow and walked over, opening it and letting in some of the midday sun. A ducal messenger stood outside.

“Sir Geralt of Rivia, Her Grace Duchess Anna Henrietta asks you to come to her this evening to answer some of her Grace’s concerns about the current, dark events,” the messenger said stiffly.

“Uhu, can I refuse?” Geralt replied dryly, he and the Duchess didn’t exactly see eye to eye after the witcher had managed to convince everyone that it was in fact Syanna, the Duchess’ sister, who was the beast of Beauclair.

“Her Grace said she would, under no circumstance take no for an answer. You can come willing this evening, or the guard will be sent to collect you,” The messenger huffed, and the witcher sighed heavily.

“Fine, tell her I’ll be there before sundown.”  
The messenger nodded and turned on his heel.

“So, the Duchess demanded I come and talk about this case. Want to join me?”

“I’d rather be stomped on by a fiend repeatedly while that fiend was on fire,” Regis replied just as quickly without looking up from the megascope.

“Yeah, thought as much. I vehemently refuse to dress in finery for this, going in in full armor.”

“Probably wise, lest she tries to tear you apart. Or worse, perhaps she's airing her sociopath sister, I heard she lives in the palace. Not locked away in a deep dungeon. Disgraceful,” now Regis looked at him, mouth down turned.

“You’ll find no objection here, had it been anyone else the Duchess would have chopped their head off publicly and then had the corpse dragged. She’s rather blind with her sister, it even worries the guard captain,” Geralt lent back against the wall.

“Well then, at least someone in that palace actually has some common sense and proper survival instincts. “

“Ah, just barely. Well, you continue here then, and if I’m not back by dawn, have B.B arrange a search party.”

“Nonsense, I’ll come find you myself and knock whoever laid a finger on you over the head,” the vampire said with a deadpan face.

“Never doubted it, and I feel more at ease already,” He chuckled and couldn’t keep from giving Regis a little wink before heading back downstairs to get ready to travel to Beauclair.

 

He couldn’t help but to walk a little stiffly as he ascended the stairs to where the Duchess of Toussaint could look out over her city with some of her courtiers around her. He almost gave a sigh of relief as he saw no sign of the Duchess’ accursed sister when he reached the top of the stairs.

“Master witcher, how good of you to join us,” Anna Henrietta turned towards him as he approached, she didn’t sound very pleased though.

“Of course, I understand that you have questions. I will try to answer, but I don’t know a whole lot about just what is going on myself. Only just started to find some decent clues and trails,” he gave a short bow when he stopped in front of her.

“Are all witchers as slow and half incompetent in their trade as you?”  
He didn’t rise to the bait, if the Duchess wanted to gripe and cuss him out for her sister’s situation, he would leave and it would be his damned right. She may be fair and enlightened most of the time, but when it got personal, Her Enlightened Highness of Toussaint was both blind and deaf.

“The killers, there are two of them, are working with dark and powerful magic. For some reason they are gathering great amounts of blood, but no, they are not drinking from their victims. The appearance of those murdered resembles that of slaughtered animals whose blood is gathered for further use. They take their time with the killings, also have a whole cleanup process afterwards that’s quite thorough, despite all appearances,” he rattled off instead of waiting for her to continue stooping into her anger with Geralt for something her sister brought on herself.

“I was told there was little to no tracks on both scenes, how can you be so sure of the magic and that there is two?”

“Three,”

“Beg pardon?”

“When the time for new-moon arrived there was a third killing. By stroke of luck we managed to point ourselves in the right direction and disturbed the killers before they could fully finish their gory ritual. They sensed us coming though, escaped before we reached the scene.”

“What?! Why haven’t you informed anyone of this-“

“They lived far from Beauclair, I doubt anyone here has even heard of them as they simply wanted to be left alone and did no harm upon anyone far as I know. We buried them properly and left them to rest in peace. The place is surrounded by monster dens, so I advise against sending people there.”

“Then, who is this ‘we’? I assumed you were working alone, witcher,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I sent a letter asking Regis about some details, he showed up instead of replying. As an experienced scholar in both medicine, history and a great many other things… I find his help invaluable,” The Duchess didn’t need to know that Regis had arrived because it was specifically his people that were being slaughtered.

“Becoming quite the team are you? Fine, but if the ‘killers’ escaped how are you so sure there were two of them?”

“The people killed had a son, who saw them,” he watched the Duchess’ irreverent expression falter into that of mild horror.

“A child?” she asked quietly now.

“Yes, we took him to Orianna afterwards. She took him in."

“The poor boy…witcher, I hope you are planning to move quicker this time so we can avoid another travesty.”

“Duchess, with all respect, not even your beagles can track that which leaves no tracks. And travesty was avoided last time, the beast of Beauclair was apprehended before she could unleash hell on your city, and by all accounts she sits locked in a fine tower instead of a deep hole that would befit her more,” Geralt furrowed his brow, tired of these jabs and barbs.

“How dare you, you yourself said that she was blackmailing a vampire-“

“She’s clearly unbalanced, switching between her monstrous side and her somewhat humanoid self, I told you her creepy notes to herself had misled me.”

“She’s clearly cursed! And you witchers are supposed to be knowledgeable about them! You-“

“We witchers, Your Grace, often solve curses by putting the sufferer out of their misery if there is no clear solution to the problem. Your sister’s curse is rooted in her evil nature and vile personality, the curse will likely never be broken,” he couldn’t keep it to himself, and he couldn’t care one whit about the gasps that came from the courtiers and guards at his bluntness.

“You dare! I think you simply do not wish to do the work required to break the curse,” she hissed back at him.

“I think you need to stop being so blind about Syanna, she killed four of your people and had plans to rip your heart out for all to see. I’m done repeating myself, I will send word if anything new happens in the current case which really should be your main concern right now, Your Grace,” he didn’t wait for a dismissal that would come with more insults, he bowed and left back down the stairs.

Syanna’s curse would never break, Geralt had seen to that personally.

 

“From the slammed door, I take it her Enlightened Highness continues to be not so enlightened in certain aspects?” Regis looked up from his book from where he was seated by the table.

“Ugh,” He slumped down into a chair opposite of his friend. “She knows you’re here and helping me, the way she reacted when I dropped the ‘we’, you’d think she was suspecting me of working with some kind of devil,” he shook his head.

“Hm, rather prickly when it comes to you I see,” the gray haired man shook his head.

“Full on thorns, enough of that, did you get anywhere with the scope?”

“I did, but without decent testing, we won’t know if it works until… well. I should probably try and tune it to the moon as well,” he pondered aloud.

“Hm, good idea. Think you’ll manage before tomorrow?”

“We’ll see.”

 

Both of them stayed up in the first guest room that whole night, working on the scope and doing tiny tests with Geralt using his signs. It wasn’t near good enough tests, but it was the only thing they could come up with on this short notice. They worked in seamless tandem, already a well fitted team.  
And if the closeness and occasional casual touches brought them minor distractions with the other being none the wiser, they didn’t let it consumer their thoughts what with such a task at hand.

The night lighted up and became day, and the preparations continued. Geralt sharpened his blades, even the tips of his crossbow bolts. He suggested Regis sharpen his claws to which the vampire gave him a long eye roll and shake of the head.  
They carried the tuned megascope outside and waited for darkness to return.  
Marlene came out with some food and drink for them as the sun blazed in brilliant golden on the horizon as it slowly sank behind the hills.

Geralt felt near jittery, he could count on one hand the occasions where the anticipation of a hunt had gotten him this riled up. But he was ready, ready to bolt into action and the smallest sign of red on the moon that would soon rise.  
Darkness feel, and the first sliver of a half moon was rising.  
Geralt frowned.

“You seeing any red?”

“Nothing, and the scope isn’t reacting yet either. Could be we have to be a little more patient than that,” Regis looked down at the scope which remained inactive.

They waited till the moon had reached its highest point, and still not a speck of red, not a single vibration from the megascope.

“Why the sudden silence?” Geralt growled in the darkness.

“Hm… Could be that when we disturbed them last time, we put them off? At least this time,” the vampire concluded.

“Well, shit.”

 

Regis was probably right, for the moon gave in to the sun without having had as much as a red speckle on itself throughout the entire night. It made Geralt feel restless, and more than a little helpless.

“They know we are on their trail now, they think they can throw us off by skipping a night of mayhem. They shan’t shake us that easily, Geralt,” Regis put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Hope you’re right,” He placed his own hand over Regis, took comfort from their brief physical connection. “Heh, the way I’m acting right now, must almost seem like it’s my people being hunted by blood thirsty psychopaths,” He commented as he lets his hand fall from Regis’.

“It brings me more comfort than you can ever imagine,” Regis said as he let his hand linger a little longer, before pulling back.  
Geralt looked over to him, took in Regis’ determined features. He had even mustered a confident little smile for him.

He was near floored by the want, the need, to pull Regis close and taste that confidence by putting his own lips against Regis’. He wanted to take comfort from Regis’ embrace, wanted to draw in his scent again, close and personal.  
Instead he swallowed with a dry throat and mustered a small smile back before he had to look away.

 

They had just begun on a more proper strategy, some days later, when a heavy letter came for Geralt. Upon opening it a strange crystal fell out and the witcher frowned.

“It’s from Yen,” He announced to Regis who was seated on his bed, busy reading over his notes.

“Oh, want me to leave?”

“What? Whatever for, no, I just want you to prepare to save me if something happens,” He smirked at the vampire who shook his head at him.  
He turned his attentions back to the letter.

_‘If you wished for me to write down the entirety of my knowledge on rituals tending to the darker side of magic within a letter, Geralt, you were gravelly mistaken. In fact, if you so need my help you should come in person. I have sent with a teleportation medium, you need only activate it and it will open a portal to me. You will ask properly and in person, or not all. That established, I cannot for the life of me understand why you are taking such interest in the killing of monsters. You should be pleased that someone is doing your job for you, for that is still what a witcher’s job is, yes? Killing monsters, not protecting them so they can procreate and create more of themselves. But I shall share my knowledge if you have actually gleaned that this gathering of vampire blood might be heralding something even bigger. You may come around midday, or the afternoon. Yennefer’_

“…” Geralt stood abruptly, startling Regis who had been deep in thought, and held out his hand with the letter before activating igni at it, reducing it to ashes in mere moments.

“Ah… I take it the sorceress was not actually helpful,” Regis arched a brow.

“She demands I come see her and grovel for information in person, she was intentionally vague though, doubt she knows much,” he grumbled.

“She also saw fit to remind me that I’m supposed to slay monsters, and not protect them. I can’t believe her, when did she get to this point of callousness…” He shook his head.

“Well, I suppose there is some truth to the saying that sorcerers and sorceresses care first and foremost about themselves.”

“Try making it the whole truth, well at least we got some rituals of interest from Keira Metz,” the witcher sighed.

“Indeed, and, I take it that stone is a form of teleportation device?”

“I’m planning to toss it into a lake, hope she opens it and gets a cold shower,” he huffed.

“Haha, not such a good idea to further anger the sorceress I dare say. How about we activate it and toss the stone through, we could see if the megascope reacts,” the vampire suggested.

“Well, at least we will get some use out of it then."

 

“Wait, I want to add something,” Geralt halted Regis as he went to activate the crystal, his friend looked at him inquisitively. He wrote a quick note before nodding to Regis. The megascope instantly indicated the direction of the portal once it opened. So there was that at least. Geralt tied the note around the stone before throwing it into the portal which instantly closed afterwards.

“Please don’t tell me a very angry sorceress will descend on us any time soon,” Regis blurted once the portal closed.

“Still a bit nervous around them huh?”

“Do you blame me after what happened in that dreadful castle?”

“Of course not, no, sorry. The note just said I wouldn’t play her games and that I shan’t make the mistake of contacting her about such matters again.”

“Well thank whoever you humans believe in these days for that,” he sounded quite relieved too. “Now let’s get back to preparing for the full moon. I doubt our two murderers can keep quiet for long."

 

The day before the full moon it felt like all of Toussaint held its breath nervously as it prayed no horror of the night would befall it on the night the moon was full. Folk already had a lot of fear of the full moon, it had not helped that the last full moon had shone with a grim red last time. Geralt and Regis were again beside the megascope outside of the estate, awaiting the night and ready to spring into action should the moon rise red instead of its normal blue. They were not let down tonight.

The moon had climbed high enough to show half of itself when a red tint seemed to wash over it. Both moved their eyes to the megascope that had begun vibrating rather violently, before giving them a direction to follow.

“Geralt… this points to the city,” Regis said urgently as Geralt turned and ran over to Roach, pulling Regis up behind him.

“I know, and I have a hunch,” he kicked Roach into full speed, heading to Beauclair.

“Please, don’t be Orianna…” Regis whispered behind him.

There was a great commotion outside Orianna’s estate, with servants crying hysterically while guards tried to get everyone under control.

“What has happened?!” Geralt bellowed over the wails.

“Lady Orianna has been murdered, oh what horror! Her throat was ripped out it was!” A kitchen girl cried.

“Ripped? Not hanged up and bled dry?”

“W-what?”

“Never mind that,” Regis voice sounded a bit muddied with emotion that he pushed through

“Orianna took in a boy not long ago, is he here, is he safe?” Geralt continued.

“He- He’s safe… the Lady took him to visit the orphanage today, he was to stay the night,” the shocked girl managed to stammer.

“Geralt, no time to lose. I have a very, very bad feeling about this and we are wasting time,” Regis urged him. Geralt did not need to be told twice.

When they made it to the orphanage, pure carnage met them. Little, innocent bodies lay dismembered around the grounds within the outer walls. Regis slammed his hand over his mouth and nose to block the scent of fresh blood, even if he really didn’t have to breathe.

“Regis, get away before this affects you,” Geralt half pleaded with him, he didn’t want to see Regis in such anguish as he had been in at Tesham Mutna, ever again.

“No, I will run if I feel myself slipping, but I need to see.” Geralt nodded once before rushing over to the orphanage house, kicking the door open with his sword raised. There were no cut bodies in here, instead over the long table, a small and mangled body swung slowly in the breeze let in by the opened door. In a circle under the body were candles, still lit.

“No…!” Regis cried, enraged before turning to fog and vanishing to somewhere… Geralt trusted he would find him later… once he had processed some of the outrage. He just hoped the carnage didn't affected just how Regis might chose to process. He looked back up at the boy, closing his eyes in defeat for a moment. They had devised a distraction, killed Orianna viciously while the other came here and did this…That settled it though, the other part of the duo had to be a vampire. In the corner of his eye he spotted

something that did not belong among sacks on the floor. He turned and saw that the shape was another child. He went over and turned the child around. A little girl, deathly pale, but weak little breaths came from her. He hurried to pick her up and carry her outside where the city guard, led by guard captain Damien, had just arrived. The guardsmen were staring at the carnage, some were getting sick and had to bend over as their stomachs betrayed them.

“Witcher…” Damien sounded as defeated as he felt.

“Quickly, this one still lives, but she needs help at once.” Damien was quick to bark at one the guards who were not bent over sick from the sight of the state of the orphanage.

“Get her to the palace healer at once, not one more child perishes here tonight!” The guardsman took the girl from Geralt’s arms and hurried back to where horses stood, tripping nervously.

“What else lies inside, witcher?”

“A body, suspended from the ceiling.”

“Is it…. Is it also a-“

“It is a child yes, but I need to tell you something,” he led Damien inside. “I believe the girl wasn’t attacked by the murderers, she was mistaken as dead when they came.”

“What? Then who?” Damien faltered a little as he saw the boy hanging from the ceiling.

“Him, he’s a vampire. As was Orianna, and I know for a fact that she was using the orphanage as her personal blood cellar…” Geralt spoke lowly.

“Gods…what has the world come to…?”

“Orianna wasn’t killing the children, still didn’t feel right about it though after I found out about it. Hadn’t decided just what to do yet… Guess I won’t have to now.”

“Why are you sharing this with me, witcher? Henrietta seems to claim you are not very forthcoming with what you know, even if the situation is dire.”

“I do not share it with her when I know her personal attachments will cloud her judgement. If I was to tell her that Orianna is in fact a vampire, and only another higher vampire can kill a higher vampire. She would loudly proclaim me a liar, even if I had proof. I am telling you so that you understand that we are dealing with a highly dangerous individual, a true vampire this time and not a cursed mock up like Syanna,” he turned to meet Damien’s searching gaze. He must have found what he searched for, for he sighed and nodded.

“Very well, I thank you for being honest with me.”

“So far the Duchess and the people need to know, Orianna was killed viciously as a revenge for trying to rattle the culprits out of hiding. Despite her actions here at the orphanage, the children were actually loyal to her and respected her. There is no need to sully her name when she has met such an end.”

“I agree, Geralt, but what of the child that was… bit by the boy?”

“She will likely not remember, when vampires drink they often release a toxin that paralyses their victims. If the victim survives the encounter, they will be disoriented and barely remember what happened. We can also blame the killers, one of them is a vampire at least.”

“Alright…do you know why… why they do this, why gather blood? Is it only vampire blood?”

“No, the last killings have been vampires sure, but before that there were humans,” he lied “as for why, I don’t know why yet. It frustrates me…no, it pisses me off.”

“You and me both then, witcher. Why murder all those innocent children though? Why not gather their blood too?”

“For sport maybe? They look like they’ve been slashed apart by a higher vampire’s claws. Maybe to not have any witnesses? Who can say with these two crazies.” Damien simply nodded again

“Geralt, we need to stop them. Somehow, in any way possible. This cannot be allowed to continue. I know you said only vampires can kill vampires but…”

“If we chop it up good, burn the pieces and spread the ashes, it will take a very long time before it can resurface. That’s one way. However, higher vampires do not take kindly to those of them that murder their own kind. They become outcasts, and are often put to death on orders from the truly ancient vampires that hide in our world.”

“So, put him in a cage and set it out for his kin to finish him off? I guess they too have been wronged in this scenario and I like the more permanent sound it holds.”

“I second that, I will inform you once I know anything more, if I can learn anything at all.”

“We will be able to set aside resources to aid you in this, witcher, all of Toussaint wants this red horror to be over.” Geralt bowed his head in gratitude before looking up and around the room once more “I doubt I can learn anything new here, will you have people…clear this place and take care of things? I had a dear friend with me when I arrived, he has helped me a lot already in this case. But he couldn’t take the horror that met us here, I would like to see to him.”

“Of course witcher, if we find anything out of the ordinary here, we will let you know. Now go, see to your friend.” Outside some of the guards had begun gathering the pieces of the children and putting them in a pile, they would set flames to it later no doubt. He averted his eyes and went to Roach, setting course for Corvo Bianco. He hoped Regis was there. He couldn’t stand the thought of his friend suffering alone somewhere right now.

Please let him be alright.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic finally earns its explicit rating, sexual themes ahead.

Corvo Bianco looked quiet, the normal kind of quiet thankfully. He left Roach by the stables and hurried up the steps to the estate, only to halt as he caught sight of a figure sitting on the long chair beside where the table was set up.  
It was a familiar silhouette, which tipped its head back to take a big gulp out of a bottle.

Geralt wandered over quietly and just sat down beside Regis, glad to see he had indeed returned to Corvo Bianco.  
He was wordlessly handed the bottle, the vampire didn’t even look at him as he did. He accepted it though and took a large gulp himself before handing it back. That was no weak distillate, the drink burned a little as it went down his throat. But he needed that tonight.   
They had taken a few swigs back and forth for a while before Regis finally broke the silence.

“Did you learn anything new?” his voice was quiet, a little hoarse as if he had screamed.

“Nothing that you haven’t already pieced together. Orianna was a diversion, her killer joined up at the orphanage later. Slaughtered fleeing and hiding children,” Geralt took another sip before handing Regis the bottle. The other closed his eyes for a moment after accepting it, then he gave a long sigh.

“Crushing defeat,” he simply said before taking another long drink. 

“One girl got out, if she makes it, there will at least be one survivor in all this.”

“A girl?” 

“Mhm, Orianna had taken the boy to the orphanage so he could feed on one of the kids. She was mistaken for dead, pale as a sheet. But the guard arrived as I carried her out, they took her to the palace healers. I think the other kids were sent out for late evening chores and play so he could feed in peace.”

“Letting such a young vampire drink unattended like that, what was she thinking…” the vampire muttered to himself before putting bottle to lips again. Emptying it. He shook it once before setting it down, retrieving another. 

“Perhaps she wanted to give him something she deemed special after all he went through, it doesn’t matter much now in any case. I also told Damien De La Tour about Orianna and the boy, but I didn’t tell him all the victims have been vampires. I just needed him to really understand the danger we are dealing with. He understood, and claimed he won’t inform the Duchess about this new reveal.”

“And you believe him?” Regis looked at him again.

“In this case, yes I do. The captain understands that his Duchess is pretty blinded when it comes to things that hit a little too close to home,” he nodded.

“Well I suppose so,” the other sighed, and handed Geralt the new bottle after taking a sip. “I knew this was a very real possibility, but…”

“Doesn’t matter how much you prepare for it, still hurts to lose someone you called a friend. Even if it was some time ago,” Geralt supplied for him.

“Ah…I suppose your knowledge in this area greatly trumps mine, Geralt. We’re not… used to deal with such permanent loss this way,” Regis’ must be delving beyond the buzzed state that Geralt was feeling, for the vampire put his head on Geralt’s shoulder with a deep sigh.  
The witcher didn’t mind one bit, and his other arm snuck around Regis’ middle, keeping him close.

“Not really, as I said, you can’t prepare. Even when someone is sick, and you know it is only a matter of time, the death is still shocking, and painful. Worse if it is unexpected though,” he remembered instances with fellow witchers who had passed, when Vesemir had fallen to the hunt…

“It feels like… more somehow. We’re not supposed to die,” Regis muttered.

“Perhaps,” he took a long drink from the bottle, felt the buzz dampen the more worrisome thoughts. “Still happens though, apparently.” 

“I’m going to smash the murderer’s skull when we find them,” came the gritted reply.

“Of course, but I think it is time to find a more cheerful topic, or at least not as maudlin as contemplating death and existence.”

“Suppose you are right,” Regis sat up again, but Geralt didn’t let go of him. “Any suggestions?” the vampire looked to him.

Geralt turned his head and took in Regis’ appearance, melancholic was the word that described him best at the moment. His lips turned down, making him look drawn. He couldn’t say for certain why he did it, if it was the need to comfort him that went overboard or if it was the drink giving him too much courage. Probably a decent mixture of both.  
He lent forward and pressed his lips against the vampire’s. They were cool to the touch at first, but quickly warmed under Geralt’s own as they began moving against his after the initial surprise. 

Regis made a small sound in his throat, a mix between a keen and a low groan, when Geralt moved his hand from his side to his face to keep close to the other as the kiss deepened.  
Regis apparently couldn’t resist exploring Geralt’s slightly sharper, than an average human anyway, teeth with his tongue. The witcher was more than happy to let him, eventually drawing Regis’ tongue with his own, toying with it.  
He needed to pull back eventually, unlike Regis he actually need to draw breath every once in a while. He opened his eyes to see that the other man looked almost flushed, his eyes half lidded and he too was breathing a little heavier even though he didn’t have to. 

As no protest came, Geralt pushed against him again, pushed till Regis was lying down on the divan with Geralt on top and the kiss continued. Hands began to wander, Geralt managed to fumble with the sword straps so they clinked down onto the ground lest they get in the way.  
His kisses left Regis’ lips and went down to his jaw, leaving light kisses alongside it as the vampire shivered with excitement when he moved his lips down to his neck.

“Mind if we take this inside?” He rumbled into Regis’ ear after placing a kiss under it, followed with a gentle nip of teeth.

“Nn…don’t mind at all,” the other man sounded out of breath, and had it been any other situation the witcher might have found it amusing. 

As it stood though he was more interested in this current situation, he bent down and picked up his swords before taking Regis by the hand and leading him towards the estate. Once in his room, he dropped his swords without much thought to them before returning his attention to Regis who had already divested himself of his long-vest.   
He pulled him close again, kissing him, feeling him. The light armor he wore had long since become a hindrance, so he pulled back and got to work on buckles to get rid of it. He threw off his undershirt too for good measure once the piece was off.

This time he was pushed down onto the bed by the vampire, the small show of strength making thrills run through him, coaxing a pleased gasp from his lips. He pulled Regis down into another bruising kiss before a hand started to get to work on the buttons of the other’s tunic. 

 

He was drowning in touches, kisses, and heat. Regis was playing his body as if he had known it for ages, making the witcher squirm, pant and groan. The other had loosened his trouser some time ago, eager to see more of him. Geralt let him get a glance before he pulled him up again into a heady kiss filled with the taste of mandrake hooch. He used the distraction to roll them over so Geralt was above Regis, and he wasted no time putting his mouth back on the other’s naked skin. The vampire had been careful with his teeth, Geralt didn’t have to.   
And from the sounds Regis was making, it didn’t seem like he wanted him to be either. 

But there was something else Geralt really wanted to do, something he had not done for what felt like ages.   
His hands pushed down Regis’ trousers while his mouth moved over pale skin. It was almost a shame they healed so fast, no way for him to mark him this way. He was distracted from this minor disappointment as he made his way down Regis’ body. Placing kisses down his stomach, down the abdomen before taking the other in his mouth without any further warning. 

The man under him jerked violently, but the witcher was quick to move his hands down to the other’s hips to hold him still as he familiarized himself with a slightly rusted skill.   
Regis moved till he was in a sitting position, hunched over Geralt as the witcher licked and enjoyed himself.

“Geralt… it’s… been too long I can’t…Can’t keep this up if you-“he bit his lip with eyes clenched tight as Geralt ignored all heed and only took him deeper.   
Hands came up on each side of his head, fingers threading into his hair and squeezing. Hearing just how much he was affecting his vampire sent shivers down his spine, pleasant ones that made him rub himself against the sheets as if he was a teen again. But he felt like he was growing stiffer with every new moan from the other man, he couldn’t help himself.

He was pulled up abruptly before Regis reached his peak, but didn’t get to protest as his mouth was taken again. The kiss was near desperate as he was pulled down again, on top of the other with a low grunt. Regis’ leg was between his and the bastard pulled his knee up slightly putting direct pressure on his erection. 

“Fuck…” Geralt groaned above him before bending back down into fiery kisses as he just gave in and rubbed up against Regis.  
It was when the vampire adjusted him slightly, and moved his hand down and took them both in hand that he knew this would all be over soon. He hid his face in the crock of Regis’ neck and moaned into the other’s ear, low and unguarded. 

It would seem it was his letting his voice a little loose that was the undoing of Regis. He groaned and grabbed Geralt’s shoulder with his free hand as he shook when he reached climax.   
And the sounds, the scent and the touch…it drove Geralt over the edge as well, had him spend himself into Regis’ hand with low grunts.

“Mmn…best topic change…” Regis slurred afterwards when he was resting in the witcher’s arms. Geralt nuzzled closer, nose in Regis’ surprisingly soft hair. 

“I have my moments,” he replied lowly, and with a smile as his hand caressed the other man’s side. 

“They’re not so rare as you make them sound.”

“Heh, sounding like you might fall asleep there Regis,” Geralt chuckled.

“’m comfortable, and I feel safe…I just…might,” he mumbled before seemingly drifting into sleep. Geralt just smiled and closed his own eyes, letting himself drift to nice herbal scent Regis wore. 

He hoped tomorrow never came.


	12. Chapter 11

Regis woke slowly, he knew it was morning but he still felt a little disoriented. He wasn’t where he usually woke up in Corvo Bianco. For one, he usually didn’t have a pair of naked arms around him. He looked up at the sleeping face of Geralt.   
So last night hadn’t just been a mandrake induced fantasy, who’d have thunk. 

He frowned, Geralt had also had a lot to drink…Even if the witcher had been the one to lean in first…No, Regis didn’t believe that theory. None of them had been that far gone last night. They both knew what they were doing.   
But he had never guess that Geralt… the same as himself. Or perhaps, his thoughts went to a grimmer place, this was just… a casual thing. A bounce back or whatever the humans called it. If that was so, this couldn’t happen again, he wasn’t dumb enough to cause himself that kind of harm. 

“Mmn…Regis, I can hear you think,” Geralt mumbled against him.

“How did you even know that I was awake?” he asked, perplexed and a little shocked at the sudden interruption. 

“You tensed up, everything alright?” Geralt pulled back somewhat from him and met his eyes.

“I…I just find myself wondering…what exactly this is, and why it happened. And don’t say anything base, you know that’s not what I mean.”

“Fine, well to tell you the truth I’m not exactly sure myself what this exactly is, but it happened because I like you, I feel at ease with you. And I find you handsome too. So, I would like it very much if we could eventually find out what this is. You know, ah… together,” the witcher sounded sincere if a little stumbling in his admission of actually having feelings.  
And he had never been dishonest with Regis, a trait the vampire valued highly in him. And Geralt’s words made him near melt against the man all over again.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not tempted by the chance to get to know you like this Geralt. You’ve always been a fascination, but…I see you as so different from most humans, you are someone I could…could try with,” deeper words, more meaningful words lingered on his tongue. But they were far too premature, dangerous even. They would have to wait.  
The witcher however, seemed pleased at the answer and pressed a soft kiss to Regis’ lips. He pressed back into it, it was already making his head fill with a pleasant fog that narrowed his senses to perceive only Geralt and himself.

The sounds, the taste, the smell, and the touch. He drank it in like it was the secret elixir of the world. Neither wanted to part, and the kiss only fell into deeper waters, introducing tongue, and soft pants. It was Geralt who pulled away first, breath a little ragged, instead of letting Regis pull him back in though the witcher vanished under the covers.

“What are you up to now- oh…!” Regis jerked as he was suddenly grabbed by his ass and pulled close, teasing kisses and bites to his thighs, and eventually a wet heat around his growing erection. 

His hand went under the covers and found Geralt’s head, he threaded his fingers into his hair and held on. The witcher gave a pleased rumble against him, which in turn had him squeeze his eyes shut as he tried to regain some control over his hips that insisted on trying to meet the heat.  
He hadn’t let Geralt finish this last night, but now the witcher seemed hell bent on tasting the older man properly. He refused to budge even when Regis urged him to get back up in-between muffled moans, and silenced cries of pleasure. 

He bit down on the back of his other hand till he near broke skin when Geralt’s sucking and licks brought him to climax some time later. After he slumped back onto the bed, arms spread, as he felt Geralt crawl up till his head peeked out at him from the covers, smug grin in place. 

“Was that…altogether necessary?” he breathed. “Not that I’m complaining, mind, that was… hmm, rather spectacular.”

“You didn’t let me finish showing off last night,” he pressed a kiss just under Regis’ jaw, and the vampire closed his eyes and relished the feeling with a loose smile. 

“Mm, it’s not something I’ve seen many people truly enjoyed,” he admitted. 

“Well, get used to it Regis, I’m getting rather fond of you, all of you in fact.”  
The vampire felt heat rise up in him again, and barely had time to react before the witcher delved into another breath taking kiss. 

 

A messenger came with an invitation to attend Orianna’s funeral some days later.   
Regis warned it was probable that other vampires would attend, for Orianna’s death had been felt by those nearby and the Unseen. But as no edict to kill and maim a certain person came, Regis had concluded that Orianna’s killer had shrouded him or herself somehow. 

“That pretty much cements that it has to be a sorcerer or sorceress standing with them,” Geralt said as they got dressed for the funeral. 

“Was that actually ever in doubt?” Regis asked, he had found his more formal attire for the occasion. And the darker hues adorned with silver embroidery looked rather fetching on him. 

“Sure, could have been someone with ties to a demon, or worse, Gaunter O’Dimm could have been involved, but I sort of dismissed it after a while. I doubt he’d find it as fun to get to torment someone who can’t really die.”

“Gaunter O’Dimm, isn’t that man also known as the master of mirrors?”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell you later how I got close and personal with him, against my wishes. He’s not involved though, things would have made even less sense.”

“Fine, so, someone who possesses magical powers, and a vampire, we in agreement?”

“Uhu,” Geralt simply grunted as he pulled the Skellige tunic over his head, the dark color adorned with golden details actually went pretty well with Regis, even if there was a contrast with the silver and gold. 

“So we can also assume they got away without leaving tracks, by either becoming fog, teleporting, or both.”

“Making them damn hard to track,” Geralt agreed as he finished dressing, then turned to Regis and held his arms out in a sort of ‘well, judge away’.

“Hmm, very handsome. The simpler style suits you quite well,” Regis smiled, almost shyly at him. Geralt faltered for a bit, just out right praise was not what he was expecting.   
“Something the matter? Did I say something wrong?” the vampire frowned. 

“No, no not at all. Just not used to … ah… getting compliments when I have to dress up,” the witcher admitted.

“A travesty, you look rather fetching in most things you wear, Geralt,” Regis grinned before walking out from the room he had more or less moved into these past few days.  
The witcher found himself staring after the vampire, mouth slight agape before he shook himself. Urging himself that no, they did not have time to have a quick go right now. They were attending a funeral, this was not appropriate thoughts for a funeral.  
Then again, they were burying a vampire who had had rather dubious morals herself, so who truly knew right protocol in this situation.

They rode on horseback to town, Barnabas-Basil had acquired a horse for Regis which the witcher and the vampire had spent time with so it wouldn’t just throw Regis off. Even with his herbal perfume, animals were still a little skittish around him. With coaxing, and a lot of treats from Regis, the horse seemed alright enough to take a vampire on his back.

The funeral had been funded by the Duchess, so it seemed a lavish affair. Everyone was agreed that this was very suitable for the once hostess of the Mandragora. There were flowers everywhere, lanterns, and good food after they had seen Orianna to the crypt in the cemetery.   
The Duchess was there as well, of course, dabbing at her cheeks with a silken handkerchief. Geralt more felt, than truly observed, that Regis was steering them away intentionally from the Duchess. It made the witcher work hard to not let the smile show on his lips and face.

“You know, I thought there would be more vampires here,” Regis said later once they had found themselves a quiet corner to converse in.

“Yeah? Maybe they’ve taken the warning to heart now that there have been 4 accounts of this madness.”

“It is possible, especially after Orianna was murdered without anyone still not knowing who the culprit is. It is highly irregular, and I suppose even vampires can grow afraid of the unknown when it happens like this,” he mused.

“Take note of those that have stayed then, perhaps go and talk with them too, learn where they live so we know where to go if something happens.”

“Mm, good idea,” Regis agreed and went to approach his fellow vampires.   
He knew, in broad terms that is, one of the vampires present. Devan Cornelius Sturm was a fellow scholar, enjoyed penning stories that he occasionally sold to those who actually could read. So nobles, mostly. 

“Regis, staying behind in this madness?” 

“I do have a nose for trouble, thought I should put it to good use and help find whoever is performing these heinous actions,” Regis replied eloquently. 

“Hm, about time you started to use your mind a bit for your own kind and not just the humans,” Devan said with a slight shake of the head.

“Really, Devan, you becoming a purist?” Regis said drily, he felt the beginnings of anger starting to boil in him at the dismissive words. Humans had just as much the right to live as vampires did, blood wasn’t a necessity after all. And it didn’t need to come from humans either. Regis had skills to help, he would damn well use them and not let them rust away. 

“I might write stories that they can buy and read, but I do not interact with them like you do. I observe, but their problems are their own to fix. They are fickle beings, fleeting, and unfaithful.”

“You observe but don’t see then, I understand,” Regis quipped and was rewarded with a frown.

“Hmph, well, right now I am observing that the human companion you came with is being approached by ladies, judging from his appearance he must be at the top of his years so he likely has a mate or mistress. Let’s observe his faithfulness now shall we?”

Regis felt an uncomfortable cold tug in his stomach as he turned to see Geralt being approached by elegant women, no doubt drawn to this mysterious, and handsome man like moths to a flame. He had really been a fool to think that Geralt would just up and leave his charming of the opposite sex behind. The history the witcher had with the fairer sex went too deep, was way too long if memory served… No he was being unfair, it was not really his business if Geralt found someone else, a human would probably be better for him too, even if he was a witcher…

The two vampires watched Geralt exchange a few words with the ladies, but his face did not change as the women batted their eyelashes at him. One even so bold as to press up her cleavage to make it more prominent.   
Geralt instead glanced away and spotted Regis and Devan looking his way, the witcher sent Regis a smile before excusing himself from the ladies company and came over.

Regis’ heart warmed at the sight, he really needed to douse down the uncertainties he carried. It had been long since he had felt anything like this, it was true, but Geralt had already made his way far deeper into the vampire’s heart than what he had originally planned to let him.   
He smiled back at the approaching witcher, ignoring Devan’s surprised scoff when realization about Geralt’s supposed “mistress” hit the “observant” vampire. 

They left Devan to his own devices, and Regis went and exchanged quiet words with the other vampires present.   
Geralt had just helped himself to some drink when the Duchess was suddenly beside him, looking at him with steeled eyes.

"Find who did this, and end this madness, witcher," she grit out, taking hold of his arm. "I won''t suffer any more losses to my people like this!"

"We are trying, your grace, but the ones we hunt... they are masters with shadow and smoke. They leave no trace, and they work alone. This makes for a deadly combination, and trying conundrum," Regis stepped in and replied before Geralt could.  
She eyed them both, measuring their worth it would seem. 

"Your Grace, believe me when I say, I want these people punished just as much as you do. Orianna is... was someone I had known for a very long time. I knew, or rather knew of, the previous victims as well. This is very personal to me," the gray haired man said with a hardness in his voice. 

"Not to mention that the gathering of blood, and disappearance of people from the scene suggests something really bad is happening, or will happen soon," Geralt added, to which Regis nodded. 

"Solve this, end it. The quicker the better! Any resource you need, you shall have it," The Duchess said intently before turning and leaving them alone. Clearly appeased for now. The two of them exchanged a look, even without the Duquessa's ire hanging above them, they were well aware time was of the essence.

 

It wasn’t long after that they were heading back to Corvo Bianco, their moods a little lightened after leaving the sorrowful locale behind. Their horses were going at a lazy pace through the rich Toussaint countryside, allowing them to enjoy the good weather. Even with autumn nearing its end, flowers still bloomed and covered hill sides and fields like brightly colored blankets.  
They rode side by side, their knees occasionally touching, and it made Regis’ heart skip a beat almost every time. He almost felt like a lovesick teen, hyper aware of his darling’s presence.   
When he glanced over and spotted the slightly reddened cheeks of the witcher though, he no longer feared he was alone with such feelings.

If he was honest, his feelings weren’t all that new anyhow.


	13. Chapter 12

The weather had turned foul the last few days, inspiring those who could to stay inside rather than subject themselves to harsh winds and even harsher rain. A few autumn storms were to be expected though, even here where the weather was more idyllic than most. 

The half-moon had come and gone, with no reports of a new slaughter. The megascope hadn’t reacted, and all remaining, stubborn higher vampires in the area were still intact. They had been plenty ballsy last time though, so Regis and Geralt both hoped they were on a break, and not that they had reached a goal and were moving onto the next step.  
To hope that the terror was simply over was too naïve, they agreed wholeheartedly on that.

Geralt and Regis had spent the day working on maps and theories, but it was near impossible to try and circle out where the culprits could be when they weren’t travelling by normal means.   
Sometime after dinner, after Marlene and Barnabas-Basil had left for the servant quarters, Geralt had grown distracted though. Regis was dressed only in trousers and a shirt, which he had borrowed from Geralt. The shirt hang a little loosely on the vampire’s lither frame, and Geralt couldn’t take his eyes off the lean neck that seemed to just invite him in for kisses.

He had just returned from the kitchen, after having cleaned away the dishes after dinner, when he couldn’t resist any longer. He came up behind the seated man, lent down and let his hands rest against his shoulders before nuzzling against his neck.

“Geralt, didn’t we agree on actually trying to get some work done?” The vampire attempted a stern tone, but it was ruined by the hint of amusement that hid in his voice. The small shudder that went through him ruined the statement completely.

“We have for three days, Regis, we’re not making any breakthroughs tonight. Why not enjoy the night together, and get back to work tomorrow?” he was placing kisses, little bites. Regis had called this cheating a number of times already. 

“Mmn… but…” Regis attempted, but had to suck in a sharp intake of breath instead as Geralt bit down on the junction between neck and shoulder.

“If we relax properly, maybe our minds will think clearer,” the witcher purred.

“That’s a bad excuse,” the other chuckled, but he was tilting his head to the side, giving Geralt free reign of his neck. Geralt’s hands had also begun wandering underneath the loose shirt, fingers gliding over smooth, cool skin.

“You’re right, I just want to take a break with you. Think about something else for a little while, and you can be so deliciously distracting, Regis,” he murmured into the vampire’s ear.   
When he sagged a little in his seat, the witcher knew he had won. Regis went willingly when he was pulled out from his chair and taken by the hand to the bedroom. Geralt pulled him down with him on top of the bed, grinning before lips met his in a soft kiss. 

Sleeping with Regis was fun, it was hot, he was one of the best partners he had had when it came to bed sports. But every kiss made his toes curl with pleasure, every caress made his heart hammer hard against his ribs. And when the acts of passions were over, he was more than willing to either gather Regis in his own arms or let himself be held. Either was fine, and either made him feel warm and, if tingly was something one could feel then that described it quite accurately. 

He had thought any realizations about love at this point would make him recoil, burnt child and all that. But when he realized just how far he had fallen for Regis, the witcher found he didn’t mind one bit. Regis had always been a good friend, even in the beginning when Geralt and the rest hadn’t trusted him at all. He was loyal to a fault, always willing to help, to listen. A bit too glad to show off his knowledge and vocabulary sometimes, but nothing that got to the point of too annoying.   
And now, together like this, Regis was everything and more that Geralt had ever looked for and wanted in a romantic partner. 

So when the witcher’s mind began whispering about love, he was more amused than anything else. A witcher and a vampire, if Lambert ever found out he’d likely have an aneurysm or something equally extreme.   
But most of all, he liked the thought of having Regis be besides him forever. For as long as forever would last for him at least… such thoughts quickly went to the grim and sorrowful, so he avoided it diligently. 

Geralt looked at the flushed vampire beneath him, smirked as he pushed inside. Regis had made a grab for the headboard, mouth open and eyes screwed shut. Oh but he was beautiful like this, when his composure was more or less broken, his hair was ruffled, and his skin actually flushed. He lent down and kissed his chest, moving a little at the same time. 

“Ah…Geralt… please, please move,” the other stuttered, managing to pry his own eyes open and look at the other pleadingly. If Geralt hadn’t anticipated it, he might have come undone right then and there.

“Mm, Regis, how can I refuse when you ask me in such a fantastic way?” He purred against the vampire’s ear, and was rewarded by a low gasp.  
He kept his head low, chin almost touching Regis’ shoulder as he began moving. For someone who initially felt cold when you first touched them, Regis felt wonderfully warm inside. It was near too easy to lose himself completely to the heat. 

He groaned freely when Regis squeezed around him, urging him to quicken his pace.  
He pulled back a little so he could look at the other man properly, Regis met his eyes with his own half lidded ones. His mouth open and a little slack around soft pants. On his neck, Geralt spotted faint marks that were already healing, a shame really, for they looked damn good on the man’s neck. He took hold of Regis’ legs, pushed them more against Regis’ chest before steadying himself and setting a hard pace that Regis seemed to enjoy occasionally.

The vampire cried out, eyes shutting again. One hand came to grip around the witcher’s arm as the pace continued, making the whole bed rock.   
Oh, but he loved making the other sing like this, voice growing a little rougher by each cry of pleasure. He pressed on, feeling himself nearing his end.   
He pressed himself against Regis again, the vampire’s legs slipping around him and a little more down. He knew how to set Regis off though, he bent his head back down to the other’s neck. He listened to the wonderful moans and cries for a while as his hips pushed against him in unbroken rhythm.   
And when he knew he was just about to peak, he bit down on Regis’ neck. 

“Geralt…!” the vampire cried out loudly with a hoarse voice, his whole body tensing up as he came together with the witcher inside him.   
Geralt held till he felt he had no more to give, then he slumped down on top of his lover, gasping for breath as he came down from his high. 

“Heh, still feel like going back to work Regis?” He nuzzled against the healing bite. Regis brought his arms up and around the witcher, keeping him close.

“If you think I didn’t realize we’d keep to the bed for the rest of the night Geralt,” he said in a dry tone that made the witcher laugh.

“Mm… does that mean you’ll return the favor soon?”

“Ah, I think I shall. I think I shall have you get up on all fours for me so I can use my tongue on you. Perhaps shift it so I gain a little more reach, you seemed to enjoy that greatly last time,” he tightened his arms a bit around Geralt who shuddered in delight at the memory.

“Hmm, the winds and the rain might be loud enough so B.B won’t come to my rescue this time,” he laughed.

“Embarrassing at first I’ll admit, yes, didn’t stop you from continuing after he had left us, sputtering and apologizing.”

“As if an embarrassing little interruption would keep me from getting my close and personal with you, Regis,” he kissed him. A tender, warm kiss. Once it ended, the vampire continued with the verbal filth that could make Geralt rock hard in mere moments.

“I think I’ll have you on top of me afterwards, Geralt, watch you ride. Then I can touch you, all of you, touch the areas that make you feel extra good, hm?” his right hand snaked down to his ass, squeezing gently.

“Yes please,” Geralt groaned.

“Now who’s asking very nicely?” Regis chuckled and kissed the witcher’s jaw, a great deal of affection in his voice. 

They had just gotten around to the heavy kissing and touching, when an insistent and loud knock sounded from the main door.

“What in the world?” Regis pulled away.

“No, no Regis, ignore it,” Geralt pleaded, so damn ready to fully feel all of Regis.  
There was another loud knock, it managed to sound annoyed through the wood.

“Geralt, no one just strolls over to interrupt you late at night when there is as storm,” Regis pulled back and got out of the bed, starting to dress. The witcher groaned loudly in protest, but sat up and moved out of the bed as well. 

It was Regis who opened the door, and the sight that met him made him lose all his words for a moment.   
“Dettlaff?” 

 

The dark haired vampire stared back at his blood brother, but said nothing. Regis in turn simply moved to the side and let the other enter.

“What are you doing here?” Geralt asked gruffly as he saw the new arrival, the man was drenched, rain water dripping from him. 

“I debated for a long time, I know I said I would stay away from Toussaint, but I heard about Orianna,” he finally replied, voice low. 

“Well, it’s not like the she-devil is around to rile you up any more, and I’m assuming you’ve gotten rid of the fool notion of killing her after we cursed her with her true character?” Geralt crossed his arms over his chest.

“Syanna does not interest me any longer, the wounds still hurt, but I am of a calmer mind. Much thanks to Regis, I came because of my people.”  
Geralt nodded at that, satisfied with the answer.

“Speaking of she-devils, are you sure she doesn’t have a hand in it all?” he looked at his blood brother who shook his head.

“No, Syanna is kept firmly under lock and key in a tower at the palace. The few times she is let out, it is under heavy guard and always in chains,” Regis supplied, they had in fact confirmed this with the Duchess at Orianna’s funeral. The Duquessa had naturally taken great offense at the suggestion that her sister might have anything to do with it, but she could not raise her voice too loud in protest. Her guards, servants, her whole people were already quite unhappy that the Beast of Beauclair had been spared the axe due to blood ties to the Duchess. 

“Then what the hell is going on, Regis? Why are our people being slaughtered?” Dettlaff frowned at him.

“Get out of that drenched coat and take a seat, we’ll tell you what we know.”

“We will?”

“Geralt.”

“Fine, I’m getting the wine,” the witcher snorted and went to the kitchen.  
Dettlaff looked between the two, brows furrowing further.

 

“So in conclusion, and to spare you some of our earlier floundering, we are dealing with two people. One is a higher vampire, the other is a magic user and likely a sorcerer or sorceress based on their level of power. They gather blood from their vampiric victims, and chunks of their flesh, no organs. It appears as if they abduct people too if opportunity arises. We have a few cases of disappearances not far from murder sites, the time frames of said disappearances matches well with the estimated time of the murder as well,” Regis summarized for Dettlaff while Geralt poured himself a second glass of wine. 

“You are forgetting the part where they also murder anyone else on scene,” the witcher added before taking a big gulp of the wine.

“Yes… there is that. It’s terribly confounding. At one angle it looks like something ritualistic, something sinister about to happen. But then, from another angle, it appears as reckless slaughter by someone who enjoys to kill,” Regis sighed.

“Only kill? No blood taken, besides the vampire blood?” Dettlaff looked at them both for a moment.

“No, they are just carved up into pieces. Never seen a vampire drink from that, Garkains seem to like ripping their victims to shreds, but that’s usually after draining them from blood. Not to mention, they leave tracks,” Geralt met the icy blue eyes for a moment, daring him to protest any of this. Dettlaff did no such thing. 

“Fine, and you have no idea what they are using the blood for?”

“Not a clue, I’ve gone through every book, every journal. There are no mentions of the properties of higher vampire blood, besides helping with regeneration. This higher vampire though, doesn’t appear as if he needs to regenerate,” now Regis frowned. This was a question that troubled the vampire greatly, Geralt knew this. So the witcher reached out and put a warm hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze meant as comfort.  
He was rewarded with a quick smile.

“What if it isn’t for the vampire, what if they are gathering the blood for the magic user?” Dettlaff interrupted. 

“Whatever for? There are rituals, forbidden and dark magic that require large quantities of blood. But that is usually human blood. Or just any kind of blood,” Geralt pointed out.

“I don’t know about that, but you, Regis, told me that some humans think they can be turned into a vampire if they are bitten. This isn’t true, but what if the magic user thinks they can by drinking vampire blood? Or making special potions out of it.”

“That…That is absolutely true, I cannot believe I didn’t think of this! I could smack myself, honestly!” Regis actually slapped his hand over his forehead as he groaned.

“But wait, hang on, why would the sorcerer or sorceress want to become a vampire? They already know how to extend their lives to unnatural lengths times five, and magic allows them to do all kinds of things that goes beyond even the vampiric,” Geralt asked as he sat down his glass.

“Perhaps a more faithful lover than Syanna ever was to me,” the dark haired vampire suggested quietly. 

“You mean…” Regis blinked.

“I am guessing the magic user is the female, the viciousness of the vampire attack leans more towards being performed by a male,” Dettlaff finished for him.

“Oh dear…” Regis sighed.

“Perhaps your people should put in a law that no vampire is allowed to mix with shrewd human women?” Geralt snorted.

“Perhaps we should ban contact with humans all together,” Dettlaff lent forward in his seat, a challenge in his eyes directed at Geralt.

“Only the dark haired ones, maybe,” the witcher countered, the other vampire’s nose twitched.

“Alright, that’s enough of that. Your theory is an interesting one, Dettlaff, and highly plausible. We cannot just assume though, and this piece of information matters little unless we can find them and stop them from murdering more of us,” Regis stopped the rising tension between witcher and vampire.   
Geralt simply lent back into his seat and took another sip of his wine. 

“Perhaps you can contact the more… bestial vampires in the area, brother, and ask what they know. You have a way with them after all, and they could have been drawn by the power or even the blood,” Regis continued. 

“Right,” Dettlaff stood.

“Wait, you don’t need to rush off in this weather, wait till morning at least. Perhaps it has mellowed a bit.”

“Mhm, I’m heading back to bed. There are guest rooms upstairs, knock yourself out if you want,” Geralt nodded upstairs as he stood. 

“I think I will keep Dettlaff company some more, if you don’t mind,” Regis tilted his head as he looked at him. If Geralt was disappointed, the witcher masked it well behind a stoic face. 

“Course not, I’ll see you in the morning Regis.”  
Geralt probably surprised everyone in the room by placing a swift kiss to his vampire’s forehead before going to his room. 

 

Regis felt heat creep into his face, and he was desperately trying to get his lips back under control so they would stop smiling quite so widely.

“Did my misfortune with that she-devil teach you nothing, brother?” Dettlaff’s gruff voice broke through his minor bout of euphoria. He managed to school his face back to a more neutral look, before looking back over at the other.

“Those two are nowhere near one another, Dettlaff, they cannot be compared,” he stood and waved a hand towards the stairs, asking wordlessly for the other to follow him as he ascended the stairs.

“He is still a human, they are finicky, greedy creatures. If something better catches their eyes, they fly off like magpies. Chasing false wealth, and deceiving prizes.”

“Very poetic, brother,” Regis commented dryly. “Point still stand, you cannot compare Geralt to Syanna, he has no hidden agenda with me. In fact, a relationship between two men in the human world view is not something natural. It is something to be shunned, he stands more to lose by being with me, than he stands to gain.”

“Socially perhaps, but I was of the notion that witchers aren’t very socially accepted among their human kin anyway,” Dettlaff countered.

“To us he’s a human perhaps, but to other humans he is not. A witcher is someone who stands between worlds. He stands between the elder races, the human world, and the world of monsters. I’m only starting to fully grasp this practically wild notion, Dettlaff, but the fact that he’s helping us… for no other reason than wanting justice for those who have not done anything to disturb the peace… He protects both worlds, and receives thanks from neither,” Regis spoke quietly.

He had always used to see witchers as just extraordinary humans, like sorcerers and sorceresses were just humans who had tapped into something old and powerful. But witchers held intimate knowledge on the workings of both worlds, their mutations made them unique as well as something to be feared. Certainly, there were many witchers who killed every monster they came across, but even then they had rules that said that sentient monsters need not be killed unless they refused to desist with dangerous behavior.   
Geralt was certainly a witcher who tried to understand both worlds as best he could, he was always inquisitive when chance for questions arose. And he had even protected creatures classified as monsters, openly in front of many. 

Regis knew, without any doubt, that Geralt would not hesitate to protect Regis if anyone unsavory ever learned he was a vampire. Not that Regis couldn’t protect himself. He was very much equipped to do so, but he just knew Geralt would draw sword and sharp words before anyone else could do anything further.   
The thought warmed him greatly, and he had to fight of a smile again. 

“Perhaps it is so, I still do not trust him. Did you not speak of his female mate once, when you spoke of him to me before?”

“Well, obviously that is no longer the case. Geralt had no other such ties when we… hm…began all this.”

“And what is all this then, brother, he your pack mate yet?”

“Ah… humans, and witchers in this instance, do not become pack mates-“

“You don’t know what or how he truly feels, do you? And he doesn’t know you are already stupidly tied to his every whim,” Dettlaff ground out.

“Dettlaff, please…” Regis sighed, a little tiredly. 

“Why are you putting yourself at such risk, what if it breaks you when he turns on you, or leaves you? You aren’t fully healed yet, you won’t either if you keep mucking about instead of regenerating properly,” Dettlaff continued his tirade. 

“I regenerate at night…” Well now he was starting to feel like a teen being scolded by his mother, he only just avoided making a grimace as his blood brother continued prattling on about the dangers, his lack of regeneration, human’s low morals and values… and so on, and on. 

He half wondered if Dettlaff would actually notice if he nodded off for a little while… Although, he’d much rather get some sleep in the warm embrace of his witcher.   
His thoughts drifted away from the other vampire’s scolding, and to warm touches, scarred skin, raspy breath and small moans.   
The safety he felt when he had those arms around him, or the comfort he felt when he gathered Geralt up in his own arms. There was no other feeling to which he could properly compare. 

At some point Dettlaff had given up his lengthy argumentations for why humans equaled bad. Regis would just zone out, sooner rather than later. So Dettlaff had begrudgingly agreed to just talk about the usual things.   
Morning had already rolled by when Regis finished describing Orianna’s funeral to Dettlaff, and the current locations of the remaining high vampires in Toussaint.   
Marlene had begun cooking downstairs, and Regis had visibly perked up once he heard the sound of Geralt’s door from downstairs. He stood.

“Really, he’s awake and you’re rushing to his side like a loyal lap dog?” Dettlaff griped while trailing after him.  
They both stopped short as they looked over to the entrance and saw the witcher in a great hug with a young woman.

“Aha, what have we here? did I not tell you, Regis? Regis?” Dettlaff blinked as his blood brother simply stepped closer to the witcher and the young woman.

“Cirilla, is that really you? My, my but you have grown,” Regis smiled at the ashen haired woman who turned towards him abruptly.

“Regis? It really is you!” she cheered and let go of Geralt to engulf the vampire in just as great a hug. Regis laughed and returned the gesture, patting her back.

“In the flesh, a small miracle I owe entirely to my blood bond brother Dettlaff over there,” He let go of her and turned to Dettlaff with a small smile. Ciri looked around him and smiled at the other vampire.

“Hello there,” she greeted.

“Dettlaff, my daughter Ciri. Ciri, the broody vampire Dettlaff,” Geralt presented.

“Oh stop,” Ciri slapped his arm with a chuckle which the witcher met with a smile.  
Dettlaff on the other hand looked a bit too surprised by the turn of events to give any form of reply.

Regis simply shook his head with a small smile.


	14. Chapter 13

After a gray morning, the weather cleared up nicely. The clouds parted, and let the cerulean sky show properly again. The late autumn sun warmed them nicely as Geralt and Ciri sat down together on the divan on the hill overlooking the vineyard.

“Rumors have spread as far north as Novigrad about the gruesome murders plaguing Toussaint, I heard about it when I passed through. Then I learned from Dandelion that you had actually moved down here,” Ciri started, looking at him with a brow arched.

“Yep,” Geralt simply said, deliberately not elaborating just yet. “Didn’t know where you were, couldn’t send a letter. Figured you’d find out once you wanted to find me,” he continued.

“Well that’s true enough, but don’t make me fish answers out of you. What happened in Kovir? I thought Triss made you happy?” she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a pointed look.

“Right…” he sighed and lent forward, resting his arms on his legs. He could feel the tension settling inside him. Showing off his affection towards Regis in front of Dettlaff was one thing, vampires usually didn’t adopt cultural understanding from humans most of the time. For them an all-male couple, or all female couple was just as normal and accepted as a male-female pairing.   
The thought of being judged as something…wrong or broken, by his beloved Ciri of all people. It made his tongue tie itself in a painful knot. He tried to swallow, wet his lips with a dry tongue.

“Yen came, and wasn’t as comfortable and happy with current arrangements after all,” he managed to start off on his explanation.

“Oh dear…I feared it would happen, the way she would sometimes slip up when we spoke last before she went to Vizima… I had hoped she could let it go, so, you left them both then?”

“Yes, I told you before, I was tired of having fight after fight. Always doubting, always on my toes. They will both have a special place in my heart, and with time I hope we can meet as friends again. But I don’t want that kind of strife any more, and it has been thoroughly unfair on them both. I can argue back and forth against, and for both of them. We’ve all done things that hurt, maybe now Triss and Yen can return to a more… peaceful and amicable friendship again,” perhaps he didn’t have to say anything about what else was new. He didn’t have to do it now, after all. 

“I see, and I do understand as well. Perhaps things will be best like this, you seem to be faring well though, all things and current… difficult situation none withstanding,” Ciri smiled to him, and Geralt knew there was absolutely nothing he would keep from her. If the truth turned Ciri from him…well, at least he wouldn’t be lying by omission to her, and covering it up wasn’t fair on Regis either.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong after all?” Ciri frowned as she took in his expression. The witcher shook his head.

“No I…guess I just have something to tell you and it… it is a bit difficult,” he swallowed again.

“Difficult? In what way? To explain? Or a difficult matter?” Ciri pressed, always inquisitive when faced with something unknown. 

“Ah…a bit of both I suppose. I guess I can start with the fact that I’ve found someone else, and, I’m already feeling pretty close to this someone, I’ve not felt like this for a long time actually,” he was stalling, and he knew it well. Ciri too by the looks of it, she tilted her head impatiently to encourage him to get on with it already.

“I don’t just fancy women, sometimes when I know I can truly trust them… I find myself fancying men as well and-“

“The tall dark one?” Ciri grinned as Geralt sputtered, choking on his words.

“What?! Dear Gods no way, I-“

“Relax, I know it’s Regis. I was a little surprised when I noticed earlier, I will admit. I mean, I’ve only ever seen you or heard of you with women. Now I think I understand why there has been so many of them though,” she said dryly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. But if you were worried about my reaction, you needn’t be. I’m rather fond of women myself, not as loud and often not as smelly as most men. Haha, no offense of course! As long as you are happy when you are with him, Geralt, that’s all that matters to me,” she said smilingly, and took his hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. 

“Huh, I’m not really surprised at all at that. But, thank you Ciri, this means a lot to me,” he gave a small squeeze back and smiled.

“I’m happy so long you are, and, I like it when you smile remember? You’ve been really smiley all morning in fact, I think I should get Regis something to thank him for the effort he must be putting in,” she smirked as the witcher flushed and shook his head.

He caught a glimpse of the mentioned vampire down in the herbal garden, he was walking with Dettlaff, talking and waving one hand about excitedly while the other hung onto his pouch as per usual. The witcher didn’t even feel the affectionate smile that slipped onto his lips as he watched Regis likely explain something he was passionate about.

“There, that’s exactly the kind of look I mentioned!” Ciri interrupted his daze.

“What?” he blinked and looked over to the chuckling woman.

“Oh, this is priceless! I’ve never seen you this far gone with anyone before,” she smiled and lent forward, giving him a brief hug. “It’s really good to see that you found happiness again.”

“Yeah,” Geralt wrapped an arm around her shoulder before letting go, meeting her smile with one of his own. 

 

Geralt agreed to have Ciri help with the vampire conundrum, at this point they needed as many capable individuals as possible if they were ever to catch the culprits. The female witcher agreed with Dettlaff’s theory, that it was likely a pair of lovers who was conducting this horror on the vampiric population in Toussaint. It just made more sense that way, she claimed.   
They went over all the magic users they knew, or had heard of, but came up with none that could be the possible culprit. 

“It’s almost surprising that there is one at all, what with the witch hunts in the north, they’ve only now started to subside,” Ciri commented.  
Emhyr had evidently started to take pity on the mages, or saw them as useful again, and had begun to butt heads with Hemmelfart and the church of Eternal Fire. Risky perhaps, but Novigrad was indisputably under Nilfgardian rule and many feared that if the emperor did not back down, he could face another angry mob that could upset the North once more. This time led by the most devoted followers of the Eternal Fire, the witch hunters, and the religious leaders. 

“If Emhyr has any decent bones in his body, he will quash the entire movement. It’s only an excuse to persecute those who are different, scare those who do not know any better, and control them through that fear,” Geralt added.

“Hunting each other like rabid animals,” Dettlaff snorted.

“Excuse me, who is currently slaughtering vampires throughout Toussaint? A bat-shit crazy witch hunter who knocked his head a few too many times while hunting mages? I think not,” Ciri snorted.

“Hehe, bat-shit.”

“Ugh, Geralt honestly,” Regis rolled his eyes.

“What? It’s very fitting in the current situation here,” the witcher looked over at his vampire who only shook his head at him.

“My point stands, stop with the elven philosophy outlook on “us humans”, all the races have proven themselves very capable of being unnecessary cruel even towards one another. There is no need to wrinkle your nose at us, for when all is said and done, no one is better than the other,” Ciri continued, staring Dettlaff down.

“Apologies then,” the other vampire simply said, faltering a bit.  
Geralt wore an obvious ‘that’s my Ciri!’-look that the woman tried her best to ignore, lest her face break out in a happy smile at the pride the witcher showed in her. 

“Moving on, we know there is a mage, but we have no clue who it could be. All the sorceresses of the lodge are accounted for, and most human magic users have settled in Kovir now that the conclave has formed properly. Some could have tried to get south though, to see if the Emperor wants them in his kingdom,” Ciri went on. “Perhaps it is an elf? According to themselves, elven mages are all very powerful,” she said a bit dryly.

“No,” Regis shook his head “the Elder Races are even less fond of us than most humans, many of them are even attuned enough to sense us for what we are.”

“They fear us, we pose a great threat to them even with all their magic and might,” Dettlaff added.

“Alright, so, elves are unlikely then,” Ciri sighed in defeat.

“Unlikely, but not impossible. Look at their actions, this is no one ordinary and that goes for both the mage and the vampire. They are violating law and order in all communities here, human and vampire. It could easily be an outlier, someone who isn’t in touch with their primary community,” Geralt pondered aloud.

“Very true, and important to remember. If we are dealing with an unstable mage, well, there is really no telling how such a person would react. Same goes for an outcast elf, I suppose,” Regis nodded.

“In five days the new-moon will rise. We will all stand at the ready, maybe even go to the places we know there are vampires and stand guard. If we can just catch a glimpse of them, we could learn so much more, ideally it would be great if we could stop them the moment they arrive. But the annoying ability to turn into fog, and teleportation, can make it damn hard,” the witcher looked at them all.

“Yes, but as you said, just catching a glimpse could be vital for a break through. If we know what we are looking for, we could start asking around, perhaps someone has seen or heard of one or both of them. And it would definitely help us track them down,” the grey haired vampire agreed.

“I will go and speak with the lesser vampires for now, but I will be back in time for the new moon.” Dettlaff stood.

“Stay safe, brother,” Regis told him.

“You too, Regis.” The vampire shifted into fog that left the room at an unnatural speed. 

 

Geralt and Ciri spent the time before the new moon to practice, hone their sword skills. Regis would watch them from time to time, make comments. Ciri was way more likely to win at the occasions where Regis joined them to watch. Something the younger witcher simply found incredibly amusing. 

Despite the looming threat of the new moon hanging over them, the time spent just being together with Ciri and Regis, dining with them, playing games, and sharing stories…It felt like…Geralt could hardly describe it. For all he could think of when he saw them converse eagerly over dinner, was the word “home”.  
He smiled as Ciri turned at him, waving her fork around to emphasize her point. The new moon might bring troubles for them tomorrow, but he would not let that stop him from thoroughly enjoying the company of his two favorite people together around a filled table. 

The new moon came with crushing disappointment. No sign anywhere of the two culprits, Ciri and Geralt stood guard outside one vampire’s dwelling. The sun had yet to rise, but the light confirmed that morning had arrived without the sky carrying the ominous red tint.

“I hate to be the one to say this,” Ciri started as she drew her cloak tighter around herself as they watched the sun slowly rise over golden hilltops. “But, what if they have reached their purpose with the gathering of blood, and won’t need to do that anymore?” she asked quietly.

“Well, they will certainly be a lot harder to track down.” Geralt didn’t look away from the sun.

“I don’t like this, there must be a reason for the blood gathering, it has to be a use for it. What if that’s what’s next, what if it is worse than what has already happened?”

“I know, I’ve asked those questions myself,” the witcher finally looked at her.

“We need to find out the purpose of the blood,” she said firmly.

And there was absolutely no arguing with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ciri is insinuating you were overcompensating Geralt, get a clue!


	15. Chapter 14

Ciri left to seek out Avallac'h the day after the no-show on the new moon. Despite not being all that fond of the elf anymore, he was still highly knowledgeable and valued information greatly. He could know something about vampire blood that had otherwise been forgotten. Or perhaps he could give them pointers on how to further pin-point the magic used in the ghastly rituals.  
It was worth a shot, now that they had reached another dead end. 

“I will try to come back as soon as possible! Preferably before the half moon, you never know, they might not be done with their little sadist ritual just yet,” she said as she hugged him briefly.

“Not that I wish that fate on anyone, but let’s hope they’re not done just yet,” Geralt agreed as he patted her back before they pulled apart. “Stay safe, Ciri.”

“As safe as I can,” she nodded before shifting away with a blink of light. 

“She’s truly something else, your Ciri,” Regis commented as Geralt turned back to the two vampires who were gathered around the smaller table in the alcove. 

“She is, in more ways than just her powers,” the witcher sat down with them.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second.” He smiled him, and got a proud little smile in return.   
The vampire was really just glad Geralt had been accepted as is, unconditionally by his adopted daughter. And Ciri had always been pleasant towards Regis, even downright supportive of their budding relationship. He liked her a lot, she was so much like Geralt in many ways, big and small. Regis actually doubted the two of them knew just how alike they were.  
In any case, being close to Geralt, meant being close to Ciri. And with the younger witcher’s apparent full approval, Regis was more than happy to get to know her better. 

“We should try to do something as well while she looks for the sage, not just sit on our hands,” Geralt continued.

“There isn’t much that can be done though, the lesser vampires know about as much as we do. The higher vampire emits a powerful aura when out on the prowl, it keeps them away easily,” Dettlaff shrugged.   
The other vampire had been extremely wary of the ashen haired, young lady. Almost as if he expected her to try and bite his head off if given the chance. Regis eyed his blood brother for a moment, it saddened him that the whole misery with Syanna had marked him so deeply… Not all humans were scum and lying mongrels after all. He would have to work with him on that.

“Well, don’t they know of a place where that aura is more present?” Geralt arched a brow at the vampire, who in turn shook his head.

“This place, where ever it is, could have been his lair for ages. He could have found an old ruin from our people and settled there.”

“Dettlaff is right, the lesser of out kind often avoid those areas for someone reason. Perhaps intimidation? Or just an ingrained norm to stay away,” Regis put his knuckles against his chin, a gesture for his pondering.

“Alright, then what about asking the Unseen directly what he knows?” Geralt crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at both vampires as they tensed up.

“Considering he wasn’t very happy last time…You barely made it out alive, Geralt,” Regis frowned at him, hand moving away to display the downturned lips. 

“He’s never pleasant to deal with, at all,” Dettlaff added with a slight hint of a shudder.

“Too risky, no, I refuse to risk you like that now, Geralt,” Regis’ tone was near pleading, and Geralt found himself faltering.

“Fine, but it will have to be a last resort thing if we cannot think of anything else. No stone left unturned and all that,” he tried to be firm, and Regis gave a dejected sigh together with his half nod.

“Fine, yes, but let us hope it does not have to come to that.”

“Hear, hear,” Dettlaff added.

 

The days rolled quickly as they all felt time was too short. And before they knew it, the day of the half-moon was already there. 

“We should do like last time, split up and keep watch over the remaining three vampires,” Geralt said as he and Regis sat down outside on the divan.

“Mm…I don’t like it, but I know you are absolutely right,” the vampire sighed.

“What, you worried about me?” Geralt smirked.

“Of course I am, Geralt. I care about you, I don’t want to see you hurt, at all actually. Even though I know it is pretty much inevitable,” Regis looked down into his hands that rested in his lap.  
Geralt’s smirk faltered down and he felt that slow and all-consuming warmth building in him again.

“I’ll be fine, Regis. Didn’t train all those years in Kaer Morhen for nothing, you know,” he reached out and caught the other’s chin, turning him to face him.

“I know…I suppose this foe just has me wholly unsettled, on several layers…” he sighed again.

“Hey, we’ll figure this out and we will stop it. Just like last time,” Geralt insisted before leaning forward, unable to resist pressing a short kiss to the slight downturned lips.  
Regis melted against him almost instantaneously, placing his own hand against Geralt’s cheek gently to drag out the kiss for a little while longer. 

“We do make a rather good team, don’t we?” Regis allowed himself a small chuckled as the kiss ended, but he kept his forehead against his witcher’s, eyes closed.

“Heh, the best actually,” Geralt replied, opening his eyes to see the vampire smiling with a faint flush to his cheeks.

 

“Alright, we will meet her again by sun rise,” Geralt had gotten up on Roach, looking down at the two vampires who nodded. 

“Be careful, please,” Regis said quietly.

“You too, Regis, you’re not at full strength yet,” Geralt replied with a mild smile.  
Dettlaff’s scoff went ignored by them both.

 

Geralt was back at the same house he and Ciri had watched over last time, there was faint candle light from inside the small home. The scribe vampire was likely penning some story to sell.   
The witcher sat down in nearby bushes, hiding himself from view. He had left Roach in the nearby village, in the capable hands on a stable boy. 

Regis stood in the shadows of a large tree, watching over the small hut of a female vampire who had excluded herself from most social contact, even with her own kind. She was older than dirt, and on account of her age alone, she commanded respect amongst other vampires.   
He took a deep breath before focusing on masking his appearance from any approaching vampire.

Dettlaff lingered near a farmstead, a vampire and her mate lived there. They led simple, yet honest lives. And no one dared giving them any flack for their current arrangements, both women knew how to bite if rumors ran true. Apparently one didn’t need fangs to be feared, the women were mostly left alone and traded with a small village to the east that didn’t judge them for who they were together.   
He narrowed his eyes, and focused his senses. Ready to react at the smallest hint of something being amiss.

 

The moon was starting to rise, half hidden from view due to the scattered clouds drifting lazily over the darkening autumn sky.   
The characteristic sound of a portal sounded, and he stood at the ready at once, eyeing his location closely.   
Shadows were creeping alongside the walls, getting closer to the door.

“Not tonight you won’t!” the protector of the home sprang forward, claws drawn and pointed towards the shadow that had halted.

“They’re here, get away!” the protector continued, and only caught a glimpse of dark fog hurrying away from the scene.   
The shadow by the wall gave only a hiss in warning before it pounced, showing itself as an enraged vampire.  
The fight was vicious, nothing quite beats getting between a vampire and its prey. The frustration only fuels their anger, making them even more formidable foes. Dodging, parrying, forwards and backwards, trying to deal as much damage as possible before the scuffle turned its favor away.  
It was getting to be draining, evidently for them both. The vampire miss stepped, and the protector got in a perfect slice, sending its head flying. It made a sickening smack when it hit the wall.

The body fell down before him, and he leant forward to his breath. Only to be hit with a searing pain that felt like it would burn him up from the inside.   
A sharp pain to the back of his head, and his vision darkened to all that was around him. He didn’t even feel it when he hit the ground himself. 

The sun rose over Toussaint without the moon having turned red even once during the night. Two souls appeared in front of Corvo Bianco as agreed, right on time.   
They spoke, and reported no activity from the night before. Then they waited. 

“Something is not right,” Regis said anxiously, looking down the roads, longing to see a familiar silhouette. 

“He could just be late,” the other suggested.

“No, something has happened!” Regis shifted back into fog and set for the home of Devan, Dettlaff close behind. 

 

They were greeted by a distressed vampire who had seemingly just returned himself.

“Oh, Regis, they were here! I was to be next, I wasn’t even aware, if your witcher hadn’t shouted-“

“Where is he?” Regis interrupted sharply.

“Who?”

“Geralt! The witcher!”   
Dettlaff actually startled in surprise as his blood brother yelled.

“I don’t know! I just came back, he wasn’t here, no one was!” Devan raised his hands quickly.

“You didn’t have the mind to stay and help?!” he hissed.

“I was startled, Regis, I couldn’t feel anything at all, my doom was upon me and I didn’t even sense a fraction of it! Also, the witcher yelled for me to get away, I acted on pure instinct,” the other defended himself, but Regis only gave time to listen to half of it before he marched over to the house briskly.   
Blood on the wall made him freeze up, he couldn’t move. Not an inch. 

“Dettlaff, can you-“ He tried to find the right words, tried to phrase himself as he normally would. But the words all tumbled around his head and made them impossible to handle.  
His blood brother didn’t need them though, he walked over to the wall and took a great drag of air, nose close to the smear.

“It isn’t human blood, the scent is faint, but I would stake my hide on it being vampire blood.”  
Regis felt only sheer willpower and determination to find Geralt, was the only thing keeping him up on his feet. His knees felt wobbly. 

“I don’t sense Geralt nearby,” he managed to wring out of himself.

“Me neither, and I see no tracks,” Dettlaff looked at him.

“The mage, teleportation,” Regis hissed, defeat creeping into his voice.

“You think they took him? Whatever do they need a witcher for?” Dettlaff asked, surprise evident in his face.

“I don’t know, I don’t know anything. All I know is that they took him, and I will get him back!” the older vampire clenched his jaw as he turned around.  
Devan had approached them, curiosity plain in his face. Now he jumped away though as Regis turned and turned to fog once more.  
His blood brother was barely thinking straight, Dettlaff knew the feeling and he felt for Regis. He truly did. 

“He must have gotten a few good hits in at least, not all can boast such feats against us vampires,” Devan piped up once he was sure Regis was gone from earshot.

“There is no “us vampires” in this regard, there is a sickness in our midst and we would do well to rip it out before it does something that will cause the world to burn,” Dettlaff glared, he had no wish to be associated with the vampire murderer. 

“Ah… of course. But can you believe it, the witcher, abducted?”

“No, I don’t.”  
The implication of the words hung heavy between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear


	16. Chapter 15

He came to in a slow drag, growing increasingly aware of the hard surface he was lying on. The back of his head ached and eventually forced him to pry open his eyes.  
The light in the room was dim, its source a torch burning slowly on the stone wall, opposite of him, and between them were iron bars.

  
The witcher sat up slowly, taking in the cage he was put in. His weapons and belongings were nowhere to be seen. He was also stripped of armor, left only in his trousers. The cage was the first of three in a row. The back of his confinement was hard rock, they were either underground, or in a mountain.  
Geralt managed to get on his feet, but couldn’t see anything else as the hall leading away from the cages took a sharp turn. But even with his vision cut off, his ears picked up on approaching footsteps, light, but not trained to be so. A woman’s.

Sure enough, a woman rounded the corner. She was quite stunning, dressed to impress evident from the heavy fabric that was draped around her in a very flattering manner. Her dark hair flowed effortless down, and over her shoulders. Dark eyes fixed on him, and pink painted lips curled in a cruel smile.

“And he’s awake,” she said, sounding pleased in a way that still managed to sound sinister.

“Can’t blame me for staying out this long, I assume it was you who clobbered me in the head. Since the vampire didn’t exactly possess the means, or head, to do it,” the witcher drawled, and spotted the slight twitch upon mentioning the beheaded vampire.  
“He yours? Sorry for break it then, but I heard they are mendable, give or take a hundred or so years,” he lent against the bars, staring at her.

“Not that many,” she regained some composure, eyes still showing great anger at him. “He will have regained his strength again in no time, and then we can continue our glorious work for the Eternal Fire.”

“The hell, that’s why you and a vampire no less, is doing this? For an asshole of a religion steered by racist twits?” he could not believe his ears, this made absolutely no sense to him.

“Shows what you know, witcher, we are both devoted to cleanse the very world of its sinners and unworthy! And our work shall never end, once the ritual has been completed, and I have joined his rank and species,” she divulged, opening her arms in a grand gesture.

“Okay, well that makes a little more sense I guess,” Geralt said dryly.

“You take a mocking tone, but none shall get away from our cleansing fire once my beloved has healed. The divine is on our side, it was the will of the Eternal Fire that guided us, and aided us in collecting the elixir that shall change me into something everlasting. Something that can rise from ashes, forever purified.”

“Elixir? You’ve murdered vampires who led more or less decent lives, they posed little danger to anyone. And now you and your lover have jeopardized this fragile peace. You murdered a child,” Geralt argued, voice hard, words filled with ice.

“A child whose sacrifice will be remembered,” she droned on.

“Sacrifice? You say that as if he gave consent to your insanity.” The witcher shook his head.

“This goes above and beyond you, witcher,” she hissed back.

“Then why the hell am I here, why not just slaughter me as well like you did to all those orphans who had done absolutely nothing to deserve such a fate,” he glowered as he spoke, recalling the absolute carnage that had met them outside. She ignored his attempted stab to her conscience.

“You are here because witcher blood is something special as well, yes? I have plans for you, plans to use you so that my change will be more secure, perhaps even easier,” she said lightly, as if explaining something elementary to a child.

“Look,” Geralt started, not very phased by the veiled promises of torture and death, “I get it, you love this guy. And you want to spend eternity with him, not leave him due to old age so he must suffer eternity without you…” his mind went to a gray haired, mild mannered vampire. One that smiled mildly at him whenever their eyes met, and made him feel whole and complete again.  
“But is this really worth it? You have murdered people from a race that is very good at keeping grudges, and they strike with great vengeance if their people have been wronged. Even if you by some miracle manage to change into some form of vampire, you and your lover will be hunted. You will be anathema amongst all, vampires and humans. Is that really worth it?”

She looked at him, really stared into his eyes, unblinking.  
“You think I care in such a way about those we will later steer towards purity and grace? I fear no one,” she turned on her heel and marched back the way she came.

The witcher sighed and shook his head, this was not exactly the best situation to be in.  
He looked back at the other cages, noticed splotches of dried blood… And he did his hardest not to imagine the missing people in there, suffering as they were used as test subjects for something that would never work. He had to avert his eyes, staring down at the damp stone floor. He needed to find a way to get out of this hell hole, before the she-witch did something, or the vampire actually regenerated. They had a lot of vampire blood after all, no doubt his lover would use that to speed his regeneration. Even if the effect wasn’t as good as if the blood had been freely given, it would still count for something.

He tested the bars, found them firmly rooted in the floor and ceiling. He tried the two other walls too, with the same result. Then he turned to the rocky wall, but found nothing that could aid him in his escape. There were no signs that could tell him the time in this place, and the blow he had taken to the head did nothing to aid his internal clock. He had no idea how long he had been here already, but he reckoned it was already several hours too long.  
His mind went back to Regis, the other had to be worried by now…  
He closed his eyes, lowered his head, while his hands stayed against the cold rock. And he hoped with all his being that Regis wouldn’t do anything too stupid.

 

He meditated, or he stared at the wall. There wasn’t much else to do in this place.  
The woman only showed up occasionally with a plate of sloppy gruel that Geralt contemplated not to eat every time the plate was slid into his cage.  
But letting himself grow weak from too much hunger was likely not a good idea when you were held captive in a vampire’s lair. So he ate the overcooked, flavorless grains and shoved the plate back outside. He had already tried to use it as a tool, to no avail.  
His cage was annoyingly escape-proof.

Sometimes the woman would chatter with him, but it was usually the same as before. Ravings about the Eternal Fire, and all the good she and her beloved would do once all was said and done. She also gave Geralt gleeful updates about her lover’s recovery. If she wasn’t completely delusional, the vampire’s recovery rate was disturbingly quick. When she informed him she had begun feeding him a little of her own blood to speed his recovery, Geralt knew he had to try and prepare a plan for what he would do. It was clear something would happen as soon as the vampire was well enough to stand and walk about.

He had tried using Axii on the woman a few times, but her convictions were too strong, or her mind too narrow. He didn’t know, and last time she had realized the attempted mind control and had refused to feed him for what he thought had been four days.  
It was incredibly frustrating, and disheartening, to only be able to sit and count stone cracks as time ran away from him. He seldom felt completely trapped, but this was one of those times, and it made his skin itch.

He tried to combat the absolute helplessness that was settling in him, by thinking of Regis. Thinking of how close they had gotten the past months, and how they had ended up being even more close after taking the leap into intimacy. He missed him, missed the easy conversation, the smiles, the casual touches.  
And he missed pulling him against him, undressing him and laying down beside him. Touches turning fiery as they explored familiar territory, kisses that stole breath and sent him right into a daze. The sounds, smells, and feeling when they finally connected… and the sight of Regis either writhing beneath him, or being in control of him…  
Fuck, he wanted out of this hell hole and back to his scholar. He’d lock them inside the bedroom and refuse to leave until he couldn’t feel any remnants of this damp and cold cage.

He was mid light sleep when heavier footsteps and an angry voice broke through his pleasant dreams of home. He opened his eyes, but did not move from his kneeling position.

“You let the witcher live, you have no idea how the potion will work on him. He’s a completely anomaly, have you grown soft in the head?” A male voice hissed.

“Witchers are already mutated though! Meaning they are recipient to change, he will be valuable to us!” that was the woman’s voice.

“He will be nothing of the sort, and he’s being helped by higher vampires. You foolish woman, you could have put this entire thing in jeopardy!”  
They rounded the corner and came into Geralt’s view. The vampire looked weakened, but not as much as Geralt had hoped. The blood potions the woman had brewed for him must have done the trick.

“If he responds favorably to it, we only need to drag out of him how witchers are made, what they use to prep for mutations, Vlad. It could mean I don’t have to wait so long, I can become like you faster!” She stopped and grabbed his hand.  
The vampire wasn’t looking at her though, he was staring with narrowed eyes at the witcher.

“Absolutely not,” he bit out in reply to her.

“But Vlad, why? Don’t you want me as your equal, soon as possible. Then we can start our true work!” she didn’t let go of him.

“Because all the vampire blood in the world,” Geralt interrupted, his voice firm “could never change a human into a true higher vampire.”  
The vampire drew his eyes away from him and that moment, making the woman behind him pause.

“What…the witcher cannot know that, tell him what a stupid little man he is, Vlad!”

“I am so sick, and tired of your whining, woman.” The vampire grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the second cell, pushing her startled self into it and closing the door with a heavy clang. He locked it and pocketed the key.

“What are you doing! Vlad, what is this,” she sounded so betrayed, Geralt almost felt sorry for her.

“Well, I tried to tell you lady, you cannot just become a vampire. They’re a whole different species. Gluing a dogs tail to your ass doesn’t make you one,” Geralt drawled.

“You, shut up!” the vampire slammed a fist against the bars, rattling the cage with his ire. “It was never the plan to make her a vampire, she’s a unfinished sorceress, the uncontrolled power making her unstable. Why ever would I want to keep that at my side for eternity,” he spat.

“So, you what, used her as company in your madness, something to warm the blankets at night?”

“She had her uses, even though volatile, her magic is quite powerful during moon phases, and she did quite well binding the blood of my brethren, making it even more potent all the while sealing its powers so that they could bleed out without the need of my claws,” they were locked in a staring match, both refusing to waver. The outraged cry from the sorceress went ignored.

“Uhu, I bet she was useful to keep you cloaked from other vampires too,” the witcher frowned.

“Certainly, but I don’t need any more blood, or flesh. Not really. And I don’t need any more test subjects. The potion I have will suffice plenty for my goals.”

“But, that potion made that child into a…a thing!” the woman in the other cell finally broke through her shocked silence.

“Oh for crying out loud, that was the general idea in the first place!” He waved his head in her direction, looking at her condescendingly. “Are all humans this stupid? Doesn’t matter, your time on this world is going to end soon. And we, the true higher vampires, will take over as leaders for this hell scape. Make it into a home we can be comfortable in, be ourselves.”

“And what will you do, spit vampire blood at them? Doesn’t sound very effective,” Geralt goaded.

“Of course not, you fool, Lady Belle here is right in one thing, I am aiming for mutation. Cursed vampire blood to change some humans into dark little half beasts that I will unleash on your pathetic little lives, and al who are bitten and not killed will be infected as well. Only my kind can keep you safe from these horrors, and you will have no choice but to submit,” he grinned, showing all fangs in a menacing manner.

“And become your personal buffet? I don’t think so, dick.”

“You know, I wonder if a changed witcher would be even more menacing than a normal human? Perhaps you weren’t as dumb as I thought when you brought the witcher, Belle. We just have to wait for the full moon. As reward for being the first, I’ll even throw in a bitch you can mate and maim as you please,” he practically purred as he glanced over at the sorceress who gave a low, disbelieving sob.

“Vlad, you can’t do this! Vlad!” She yelled as he walked away from them.  
She kept shouting his name till her voice was near hoarse, before falling to her knees on the damp stone. She sobbed into her hands.

“If you can wrap up your crying for a moment, mind telling me just how long this has been going on?” He looked over at her, ignoring the glare.

“We came to this stupid place near three years ago because Vlad had taken an interest in the rumors of the Duchess vampire beast sister, I should have insisted we go north!” she went back to her sobbing, rubbing the back of her hands against her eyes.  
Geralt closed his eyes for a moment, and took a long and deep breath.

He had helped curse Syanna for her deeds near three years ago, and now, that curse had helped inspire some lunatic vampire into releasing a cursed disease upon human kind in attempt to over take the race as a whole.  
Well that certainly settled it.  
It had to be a Tuesday.


	17. Chapter 17

Vlad wasn’t nearly as courteous as Belle when it came to prisoners, he fed them nothing. The only water they could get was to sit under the places where liquid dripped from the ceiling. He was weakening by each day, this did not bode well for him.

“Do you know how long till the full moon arrives?” He asked the woman in the other cage, she looked at him with an empty look. She had made no attempts to escape, she simply sat there looking defeated.

“Not long…” she said, voice dry.

“Great,” the witcher drawled and looked back at the torch. She refused to speak much, if at all, with him. Although she had been used, Geralt did not forget that her end goal with this murder spree had been just as nefarious. And no one had twisted her arm, she had killed again and again, without remorse. And she showed none now, either.

“This was not how things were supposed to go, we were happy,” she muttered, probably to herself.

“Obviously not as happy as you thought,” Geralt replied anyway without looking at her.

“What do you know?” she bit back.

“Oh, I don’t know. At least my vampire isn’t a megalomaniac asshole, who tries to making a vampire disease to subjugate the human race and turn them back into cattle for his race to feast on,” the witcher quipped, a painful pang of yearning for his Regis stinging his chest.

“Your vampire? You have a lover who is like that too?” she sounded puzzled, so Geralt turned his head to look at her.

“Still do, you don’t. I’d say being locked in a cell and made a promise to be one of the first mutated is as solid a break up as you are going to get.”  
She huffed and looked away. They didn’t speak any more after that.

 

When Geralt’s cage was opened, and he was hauled up and outside by clawed hands, he couldn’t offer much resistance. He was weak from hunger and lack of hydration, witchers could hold on for a long time, but they weren’t immortal.  
The vampire held him in an iron grip that it was impossible to break out off, even though Geralt did his best at trying. He was taken into what looked like a large hall, patterns and diagrams on the floor. He offered some fight when Vlad began strapping him onto a table that was disturbingly similar to the ones witchers used for the Trial of the Grasses.

He couldn’t move an inch of any body part once the man had finished fastening everything. Looking up he could see the moon slowly coming into view through a hole in the high ceiling. And he just knew he had no way of fighting this by himself now, there was nothing he could do. Geralt had never felt as helpless before as he did when he heard the higher vampire ready bottles on a stand.

A sharp needle was pushed into a vein, the witcher closed his eyes and resigned. If Vlad’s plan worked, someone would stop him sooner rather than later, he wouldn’t pose that much of a threat. He told himself that, and let his mind slip to more pleasant things in his final moments as his ears picked up a valve being turned.

The only thing he really regretted at the moment, was the too small amount of time he had gotten with Regis. Then again, a life time would probably not have sufficed either.  
Searing hot pain gripped him, starting at the back of his throat and prickling its way down the entirety of his body. He felt his muscles tensing, but he didn’t know if he was screaming or not. He couldn’t hear anything. He felt his eyes open, but he saw nothing.

He tried desperately to hold on to precious, recent memories. Of his friends, of his dear Ciri. Of Regis, dear and beloved Regis, he hadn’t gotten to tell him those three little words. Fuck, but he wanted to. His hand clenched, nails digging into his palm.  
The silence was filled with an intense ringing, accompanied by yells and screams that he felt himself make through the opening of his mouth, the tensing of his jaw. There was a crash, but it registered only for a moment before the pain pulled him down under a comforting blanket of dark nothing.

 

His dream was very odd. He felt unbearable heat spreading in his body, yet he was watching monsters fighting, but one was in a great rage and practically tore the other apart. Geralt was lying down while watching all this, two graceful monsters, had to be some of the sentient ones then most likely.  
Someone was touching him, but he didn’t want to look away from the fight, or he couldn’t? It was hard to tell, for his entire body felt heavy.

Then suddenly, he was alone in the darkness again, until a pair of thin, but strong arms lifted him up and carried him away. Away from what? He couldn’t get his mind to cooperate, and the darkness did nothing to help him. But as he was carried, the heat in him simmered down to bearable and the gentle pull and drag of footsteps underneath him lulled him into a deeper, dreamless sleep.

 

“I already did that, make yourself useful and change the cloth for his forehead,” a voice broke through his dreamless sleep as he slowly became aware of his aching body.

“ugh…”

“He’s coming to!”

Who was that? Sounded familiar…He forced his eyes open, his sight entirely unfocused for a while. A few, slow blinks later and his room at Corvo Bianco came into view. And he was not alone.

“Triss?” He croaked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Good, he can see,” the first voice said and he managed to look to the other side.

“Yennefer.”

“We’re here Geralt, don’t strain yourself, you’ve been through hell. We’ve been using magic to heal you, but we didn’t know how well the spells would work,” the dark haired sorceress said, tone dangerously close to gentle. Huh, he really had been far off then he supposed.

“Is he awake? Geralt!” Ciri rushed into his view, placing her hand gently against his cheek. “So good to see you awake,” she smiled, eyes watering. He managed to pull his lips slightly upwards for her, a small smile.

“It seems we got there in the nick of time,” Triss sighed with relief as she sat down by the desk.

“I got back to Toussaint to find you missing, Regis urged me to go get Yennefer and Triss. He and Dettlaff were getting close already before we got back, but we didn’t want to take any chances. Triss used hydromancy, and together with what Regis and Dettlaff had found out, we managed to find you,” Ciri explained as she sat down carefully on the side of Geralt’s bed.

“We couldn’t figure out what exactly that other vampire was trying to do to you, or what the deal with all that blood was. We couldn’t exactly ask him afterwards either, Regis sort of…snapped and uh, dealt with him, rather thoroughly,” she continued , a little hesitant.

“I know…what,” his voice hurt, and his throat was unbearably dry.

“You know what happened? Well, one less mystery to keep us up at night then I suppose. You can tell us later, Geralt. For now, Triss, go get that throat syrup the cook put together for when he woke,” Yennefer commanded and ignored the sourly look she received from the red haired sorceress. Triss got up and did as she was bid though, leaving them for a little moment.

“A woman,” Geralt managed to push through his teeth.

“Yes, we found her too. She didn’t say much though, refused to outright talk. She’s locked in a cell, waiting for you to get well enough to come to her trial,” Ciri found his hand over the cover and took it in her own, she smiled when she felt him squeeze her hand weakly back.

Marlene’s throat syrup did wonders for him, and the cook kept coming and gave him sticky little cherry treats that both felt and tasted good when they melted in his mouth. Triss and Yennefer fussed over him, only occasionally pushing at each other.  
He wished for a pain remedy though, but both women were fonder of magic than alchemy and could only relieve his pain for mere moments with their spells. Not to mention, none of them seemed very willing to go down into the cellar to his alchemy lab to brew such things, when it meant leaving Geralt in the care of the other.  
And now that Geralt was faring a little better, and didn’t appear as if he was in death’s door, the berating started.

“You should have asked for help, Geralt,” Triss sighed.

“I did, Yennefer wanted me to come grovel like an idiot,” he bit back from the bed.

“I did no such thing, I wanted you to come and have a civilized discussion,” she huffed.

“In as arrogant a voice you could manage I am sure,” Triss said dryly. “Geralt, why didn’t you just ask for me?” and she sounded hurt.

“Do any of you actually know anything at all besides common knowledge about higher vampires?” Geralt interrupted, frowning.  
The sorceresses held their silence, glancing at one another.

“That’s what I thought, so how about abandon the hindsight. I am glad, and thankful that you both came to help me when the situation got out of hand. But before that point, there was not anything you could do. So stop this bickering or get out, my head aches already,” the witcher snarled. “And I had help, Regis was also the one who called you when this happened, so I feel I owe a lot more to him. Where is he anyway?” in his weakened state and muddled mind he hadn’t realized his vampire had yet to be seen.

“The vampire is not here,” Yennefer began before she was interrupted by Triss.

“He left after he carried you to the bed.”

“He left?” Geralt frowned.

“He looked a bit shaken, actually,” Ciri piped in as she came through the doorway.

“Oh…right,” he tried desperately to hide the obvious disappointment from his voice and features.

“I’ll go have a look and see if I cannot find him, he’s been stewing in guilt probably.” the young woman took pity on him.

“Guilt?” the witcher looked back up at his daughter.

“He blamed himself a great deal for your disappearance,” Ciri shook her head.

“He had no way of knowing, or controlling what happened,” Geralt scoffed.

“I tried telling him that, I really did. Apparently he can get a pretty singular mind too if the right situation and scenario strikes.”  
The witcher gave her a pleading look.

“I will find him, don’t worry.” She smiled and left, the entrance door opening and shutting gently.

“We might not have known much about vampires, but you were dealing with dark magic and a half-sorceress too you know,” Yennefer continued just moments after Ciri had left, and Geralt suppressed a groan.  
He did his best to just not listen as Yennefer and Triss launched into a discussion about what they could have done to helped him, and avoided him being taken and strapped to a table while dubious concoctions were being put inside him.

Most of all he was disappointed that Regis hadn’t been here when he had woken up. Back in that hall he had thought he would never be able to see him again, and it had brought him emotional agony. Now that he had survived the ordeal, he wanted nothing more than to just hug him close and make sure he was real and that Geralt wasn’t just dreaming.  
He wanted to see him.


	18. Chapter 17

At the very edge of the Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery, a lonely figure sat on a rock, staring out over water colored by the gray and gloomy sky. He did not move, you couldn’t even see if he was breathing. 

“Been looking for you all day,” Ciri approached him from behind. 

“I wasn’t trying that hard at staying hidden,” he countered, but his voice held no mirth.

“Geralt has awoken, you know, and he’s wondering where you are,” Ciri pushed herself onto the rock, sitting down next to him. Regis looked at her for a moment before moving his eyes back to the water.

“I needed time to think, you all saw how I… lost my composure when we arrived at that place. I haven’t lost my composure like that in… ages,” the vampire looked down.

“I am pretty certain that this cretin deserved to be torn to pieces Regis, that excuse won’t fly very far,” she pointed out.

“Well, that shook me of course, but also the crushing realization of just how…mortal he is, Ciri, I could lose him at any moment.” The vampire looked at her again, and this time there was evident fear in his eyes.

“That is a risk one has to get used to in this world, and wouldn’t being together be worth it? You could lose him to some attack or accident, yes, but you might also not.”

“Humans still age far faster than-“

“But Geralt isn’t human, he’s nearing a century in age, and uncle Vesemir was probably thrice that. In fact I don’t even know how old uncle Vesemir was, but the other witchers used to say he as old as the ruins of Kaer Morhen themselves. You won’t just have him in a “blink of an eye” as you lot call one hundred years,” Ciri argued and the vampire sighed, but gave a small, hopeful smile.

“Relentless and stubborn, just like your father, and no I don’t mean the emperor. Fine, if those fears are all apparently unwarranted, I feared that in my anger over what had befallen Geralt… I would be too possessive of him, perhaps to the point of hindering the help the sorceresses could offer him. I removed myself to make sure I would not interfere. For as I said, I have not lost composure like that in…forever really, at least in human terms that is,” he sighed. 

“Fine, but you could have returned by now, it’s been a few days, and Geralt has been awake for almost three. He was disoriented on the first day obviously, and his throat was a mess. Marlene fixed that with some syrup though, oh and she kept feeding him cherry candies, why are you smiling?”

“Oh… ah nothing I just, I remember making those, that was good thinking on Marlene’s part, having that in his mouth would activate his saliva glands, helping his throat-“

“Regis,” she cut him off, looking at him expectantly. The vampire faltered a little.

“Fine…once my initial rage had calmed somewhat, uncertainty crept upon me…Two women who Geralt has had considerable history with, as friends, as lovers and more are currently fawning over him and helping him in a calm and probably very useful way. Reminding him of how they can be when they are not sniping at one another,” Regis looked away, embarrassment burning hard enough to slightly show in his pale cheeks.

“Oh Regis…” uncertainty was something she was intimately familiar with, she knew the pain it brought. But to see someone like Regis caught by it, well, at least it was good to know she wasn’t alone in that regard.

“And the way they looked at me when I tore that little shit to pieces…and just kept tearing until Dettlaff had to drag me away to calm me…reminding me that I am in fact a monster by your terms. I was surprised to find I had almost forgotten that detail after this… this between Geralt and me began,” the vampire looked down into his lap again.

“Oh come now, Geralt knows what you are, and he has seen you like that before! Perhaps not as pissed off, but I am very sure he would have admired it, again Regis, witchers are wired differently. Doesn’t even have to do with the mutations, I’m a witcher by training and knowledge only and I can honestly say I thought you to be admirable in your rage. So long as that rage isn’t directed at us,” she smiled and patted his shoulder. The vampire shook his head with a slight scoff.

“You are certainly odd creatures, that I am only starting to grasp I think,” he offered her another small smile. 

“Now come on, sorceresses or no, if you don’t get back to him I fear he might go looking for you, even if he has to crawl.” She hopped off the rock.

“He wouldn’t do that…would he?”

“I was being dead serious,” She said dryly.

“Oh dear…”

 

Geralt waved Triss’ hand away as she reached to help him when he tried to stand from where he was seated on the bed. They had already helped him get up to sit on the bed’s edge, he wanted to do the rest himself. His legs wobbled dangerously as they worked hard to support his weight in their weakened state, that didn’t stop him from wanting to snap at the two women who hovered near him as if he was a cripple.  
The door opening and closing caught his attention, and he looked towards the open entrance to his bedroom. Ciri soon filled it with a bright smile once she saw him standing, she soon moved to the side to let another in to see him.

Geralt eyes stung once he saw him, the vampire hid his sharp nails by holding one of his arms while the other hand clenched up to hide the nails. He met his eyes for a moment, before looking down with uncertainty. But all the witcher could really see was that his vampire had come back to him, so he moved faster than he should have on his wobbly legs and near fell onto the vampire who caught him.

“Geralt mmph-“ the vampire’s words was cut off by a harsh kiss pressed to his lips, Geralt’s hands grasping at him, holding him close and regaining his balance.  
The room had been shocked into silence, but all Regis could truly sense was the witcher in his arms, kissing him as if he was air to a drowning man. When Geralt finally pulled back he leant his head down till it rested against Regis’ chest.

“Fucking hell, Regis, I was scared I would never get to see you again,” his voice was thick with emotion, and Regis had to blink hard a few times at the unfamiliar wetness that threatened to spill from his eyes. He hid his face against Geralt, holding him close.  
The two staring sorceresses, flabbergasted by the foreign display, were silently shooed out by a smiling Ciri. They slipped past the two men and the door was closed.

Regis had placed Geralt back on the bed after the long embrace and whispered assurances had ended. And now the vampire was looking him over, head to toe, checking his vitals. 

“Considering the state you were in when we found you, you have recovered at a remarkable speed,” the vampire commented as he checked Geralt’s eyes. 

“I don’t feel as achy any more either, but again, witchers heal pretty fast,” he pointed out.

“True, and you were given white honey once we got back here, but the amount of havoc that potion or… whatever it was, put a great strain on you, Geralt. A regular human would be dead and then some, I recon even a witcher would be a little off kilter for some time,” Regis took Geralt’s pulse again, just to make sure his heart was really beating.

“I wonder, if it wasn’t a mutagen actually. That was his goal anyway, to change me, we were really just a few details off earlier.”

“Change you?”

“Mm, perhaps I can share that over dinner? Because I am really starving.”

“Ah, of course,” Regis got up, and Geralt made absolutely no protest when the vampire helped him up. His legs felt better already, but he wasn’t going to pass up a chance at getting to be close to his vampire.

They walked back out into the main room together, there the two sorceresses, and Ciri, were already seated to a table filled with food. The older women looked everywhere but the two men who just emerged. Ciri however smiled broadly to them both.

“Appetite came back,” Geralt said as he was helped onto one of the chairs opposite of the women. Regis sat down next to him.

“Well, that’s a good sign at least. But you should probably not eat too much to start with,” Triss replied, finally looking over at him and giving him a small smile. 

“Uhu, first though, since I’m up and my throat is working properly and all that…I said I would explain what happened, well, what I found out at least.”

“Yes please, one of my most pressing questions to start with is why did we find a woman in the cells and no accomplice? The logical conclusion would be that the woman was the accomplice, but then why was she locked up?” Regis looked at him.

“She was, but she didn’t know what he was actually planning. Her plan wasn’t much better though, she wanted to be turned into a higher vampire so they could be together forever and do the work of the Eternal Fire,” the witcher shook his head.

“A sorceress working FOR the Eternal Fire? You must be joking,” Triss arched a brow.

“Nope, but I don’t think this sorceress was trained. Seemed a bit… uh loopy. And she had plans to control the church, purify it. Delusions of grandeur isn’t something magic users are immune to you know, from experience, it is often quite the opposite,” Geralt grabbed some grapes and began popping them into his mouth.

“Oh ha, in any case the vampire had a different plan then? Like what?” Yennefer’s unamused voice cut in.

“Hm,” Geralt swallowed the last grape. “He wanted to create a cursed disease, infect humans with it and let them infect others. This sickness would either kill them, or change them into vampire-like monsters. A bastardized version of a lesser vampire, he believed he and other higher vampires could control them.”

“Whatever for?” Triss gasped.

“I believe I can answer that in part at least,” Regis said darkly. “His name was Vlad De Bathoryn, and he was a purist, someone who believed their race and species were above all others. In some roundabout way, I am sure he meant to use this catastrophe to overthrow human society, and take control.”

“You knew him?” Yennefer wrinkled her nose.

“Knew OF him, most of us did, to tell the truth. No one wanted to associate with him, his views too extreme, too old fashioned. Too much like Khagmar, another unsavory vampire of legend,” Regis replied, a little stiff.

“Then why not just kill him?” the sorceress pressed.

“Higher vampires have it down by law to not kill one another, Yen. Do you kill the village idiot just because he yells that all those with green eyes are superior to everyone with other eye colors?” Geralt retorted and watched her frown. “And don’t try the “well yes if he proved dangerous”, because how could you know and be sure? Until he does something, he is just an innocent lunatic.”

“This wasn’t a village idiot though was it? It was a killing machine, a monster who cannot die by any other’s hand but his own kin’s.”

“Ah, but now you are doing something very odd, and putting yourself forward as ignorant,” Regis eyed her “To your human eyes and mind, he was a monster capable of great destruction. To us, his people, he was the raving mad man. Too many lines in our codex held him back, please understand that what he has done has never been done by any vampire before, ever. No one could even dream that he could be capable of doing such things. He broke plenty lines, and he did the worst of all up to several times. Telling us that we should have killed him because he made outrageous rants, would indeed be the same as Geralt’s example with the village idiot.”  
Yennefer only scoffed, and said nothing further on the topic.

“So, wait if he was trying to mutate humans into vampire beasts, and that’s what he was starting to do with Geralt. Did it just? Not go as planned?” Triss asked, leading the conversation back. 

“Regis thinks my recovery rate is unusually high, I’m starting to wonder his concoctions acted like mutagens,” Geralt leant back in his chair.

“What, you’re saying that now you actually do have vampire genes in you?” Regis blinked.

“Maybe?”

“Hmm… didn’t Vesemir once tell us that you adapted easier to the mutagens?” Yennefer added, now back to sounding intrigued.

“I adapted so well they decided to give me a few extra rounds,” Geralt retorted dryly. 

“Really? I was under the impression that the trial of the grasses was immensely painful and quite an undertaking?” Regis tilted his head slightly to the side.

“It is, but I went through it with more ease than usual, so they subjected me to a few more experiments. I’m slightly more enhanced. Also, 3 years ago I found that witcher lab you spoke of Triss. And subjected myself to the old scholar’s treatments. Hurt like a bitch, but it unlocked a great deal of depth to many of my abilities.”

“You went and did that, alone?!” Triss yelled, standing up abruptly.

“Well, yeah?”

“I told you of the place so you could learn things, not play around with-“

“Look, it went alright. I’m here and kicking aren’t I? Fact is, I might not have still been here and kicking if I HADN’T subjected myself to his research findings. You think about that?” Geralt pointed out.

“How can anyone think about that when all this information just comes pouring from bloody nowhere?!” 

“Let us just be glad it went alright this time,” Regis interrupted calmly.

“Thank you,” Geralt sighed.

“But seriously Geralt, you even think of doing something stupid and dangerous like that again I will throw you off a bridge,” the vampire gave him a pointed look.

“Ah, yes sir,” the witcher replied quickly.  
The sorceresses exchanged an incredulous look. 

 

Sitting around the dinner table as they ate Marlene’s delicious food was…awkward. Regis had no idea how to behave, what to say and do in this sort of situation. And the stony silence from the sorceresses didn’t help in any way, shape, or form.  
Occasionally they would discuss Geralt’s mutagen theory, asking if he felt a hankering for blood or things equally ridiculous. Geralt replied to everything though, sometimes more annoyed than others. 

But when he pushed away from the table and declared he would retire for the night and that they would all speak more the next day, Regis truly had no idea what to do. Should he follow? Should he slink down to the alchemy lab? Remain seated?  
His thoughts were interrupted by a hand pulling him up from the chair, and he only just avoided sputtering as Geralt dragged him along. 

“If you think you can slip away again now, you are very mistaken Regis,” Geralt said after the door to his bedroom was closed.

“I didn’t want to assume…”

“Assume what? Regis, the sudden appearance of old flames won’t suddenly twist my head away from you. Would you drop me the instant you caught a whiff of your old succubus friend that used to roam these parts?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Then there’s your answer, now get in the bed,” the witcher commanded before pulling off his own shirt and climbing in.  
Regis smiled a little sheepishly, mostly at himself for his insecure foolishness. And at his age too, ridiculous. He undressed, putting his clothes over the desk chair, before joining Geralt under the covers. He pulled his witcher close, drew in his scent deeply. He had been washed, the scent of soap still lingered on him. And the scent of sweet cherry. He smiled against Geralt’s neck.

“…I love you, Regis.”  
The vampire sputtered “what’s this all of a sudden, I-“

“When Vlad strapped me to that table, that was one of my regrets you know. The fact that I didn’t get to say that when the words feel so very true in my own mind. Whenever I’m with you, I feel at home. I can be myself, but you also make me better. You inspire me to be better than what I am. So, before anything else happens…I love you.”  
Regis was speechless, his mouth was moving but no sound came.

“And that’s enough of that sentimental-“

“No, no reverting to stoicism after something like this, just give me a moment Geralt…” the vampire insisted, face burning. 

“I lost all coherent thought when you vanished, and when we found you like we did, I went ballistic…I thought I wouldn’t go down to such a level. Mm.., primal level… But…I want you to be my mate, I already consider you as such. I…I love you too,” he admitted quietly. 

Geralt wrapped his arms around him again, holding him tightly. Regis returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around the witcher’s shoulders and just held on. Assuring himself that this was in fact real.  
And his witcher loved him.


	19. Chapter 18

“Fuck,” Geralt grunted.

“Are we sure this is such a good idea? Ahh…!” Regis gasped before biting his lip to keep quiet, eyes shutting on their own accord.

“Mm, very sure this is a good idea,” the witcher smirked.

Geralt was straddling Regis, having already taken the vampire inside of himself. It felt so incredibly good to be joined with him completely again. He rocked back and forth carefully a few times, having to bite his lip to hinder too many sounds escaping. They did have guests in the house after all.

“Hmm, you look absolutely ravishing Geralt,” Regis reached up with one hand and pressed gently against his stomach, guiding his movements with gentle pushes and touches for a while. They were both flushed at this slow pace.  
But it felt good, the pressure building slowly, the heat burning steadily without the intense blaze that sometimes overtook them. Regis began pressing up into the rolling of Geralt’s hips, making the witcher slack jawed.

“Oh Regis, don’t stop doing that,” he moaned and the vampire grinned before pulling Geralt down enough so their lips could meet while Regis continued his slow thrusts upwards and into the witcher. His breath was becoming hitched, signaling that the end was near for the heavily scarred man. Regis didn’t want the pace to increase though, he wanted Geralt to come with slow rolls and deep thrusts.

He let the witcher sit up straight again, admiring how his chest was starting to heave as his breath became more and more shallow with each new thrust.  
Regis licked his lips as he watched this beautiful man on top of himself, the possessive voice chanting ‘mine, all mine’ in him letting itself be known. But he didn’t mind it this time, now that the witcher truly was his.  
He had just moved so that he was sitting up as well, Geralt’s legs hooking together behind his back, when their gentle love making was rudely interrupted.

“Geralt, honestly do you intend to sleep the whole day-“ Yennefer froze in the doorway.

“Seriously Yen?” Geralt groaned and put his face against Regis’ shoulder.  
The other man felt his blood boil though, and he’d later deny actually hissing at the sorceress who left in a damn hurry after.

“Regis?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” the vampire replied curtly.

“Did I feel your claws just extend there, behind my back?” the witcher smirked against his neck.

“Absolutely not,” the vampire huffed and was about to start arguing, when Geralt led him to distraction again by nipping at his neck.

“Hm, that was kinda hot,” he purred into Regis’ ear and the vampire groaned before pushing Geralt down so the witcher’s head hang over the end of the bed. And all thoughts on slow love making went through the window for now.

Geralt held onto Regis’ shoulders for dear life as he failed to keep his voice in check at Regis’ ministrations. And it took near to no time at all before he peaked with a small shout of the vampire’s name as he clung to him, breathing heavily.

“Ugh, no, I am not talking about it,” Regis said afterwards when they had arranged themselves properly in the bed again, Geralt with his head on the vampire’s chest.

“Hehe, why not? I take it as a great compliment you know,” oh he was definitely smirking, he could hear it in his voice.

“Because it is embarrassing, doubly so at my age,” Regis scoffed.

“Hm, no. I like the fact that I can affect you like this,” Geralt moved, propping himself up with an elbow wo he could look down at the scowling vampire. “As I said, I find that incredibly attractive.”

“That’s a little narcissist of you Geralt,” but he smiled, and the smile only widened as the distanced was breached and Geralt kissed him, mouth half open.  
He brought his hands up and took Geralt’s head in them, deepening the kiss further. Tingles running up and down his spine and made his toes curl. The witcher made a small moan against his lips.

A knock on the bedroom door interrupted, second time this morning for crying out loud, them.

“Geralt, Regis, quit fooling around and get out. It’s almost lunch time,” Ciri’s amused voice filtered in, and Geralt groaned.

“Ah…of course Ciri,” Regis replied instead, cheeks reddening again.

 

After lunch Regis vanished to the alchemy lab, mumbling about a projected he wanted to start up before leaving. Geralt guessed that it took some restraint from the vampire when he didn’t just turn into fog to escape the intense stares from mostly Yennefer, but also Triss.

“Geralt, a word. In private?” Yennefer asked in that usual way that was more or less interchangeable with ‘making a demand’.

“Mind going outside? I miss fresh air,” the witcher stood and showed to the door with his hand. The sorceress gave a short nod before following him outside into the sun.  
Geralt led her behind the estate, up the hill a little bit so they had a nice view of the vineyard. The grapes were almost completely harvested now, and would return again till next year.

“Well, let us hear this word you want to have,” Geralt turned to face the raven haired woman, who in turn crossed her arms over her chest.

“I want to know what the deal with the vampire is, Geralt. The _male_ vampire. If you please?” she drawled.

“Not that it really is any of your business right now, but what’s with the emphasis on male?” he retorted arching a brow.

“Oh please, all the years I’ve known you and I’ve only seen and heard you drool after pert breasts and round asses. Had a sudden change of heart?” she scoffed.

“Hardly, I’ve always been like this. But one needs to be a little bit more subtle when it comes to the same sex, perhaps even more so for men than for women. And don’t try to say I’ve fooled you or anyone else, I happen to be someone who finds both men and women attractive. Nothing wrong with that.” Now the witcher crossed his own arms over his chest, daring her to oppose him on this. He was fairly certain Yennefer knew about Ciri’s preferences too, so if she continued down this path she’d insult her as well.

“Fine, it was simply unexpected. Very, unexpected.”

“Look, all I really want is peace with someone who actually likes me for me, the way I am. I found that with Regis, I didn’t think I would again after that whole fiasco up in Kovir,” Geralt sighed.

“That-“

“I love him, Yennefer.”

She close her mouth abruptly, eyes widening.

“And I refuse to be sabotaged just because you or Triss, who is currently hiding in the bushes over there, think you are both what is really best for me.”  
The red haired sorceress emerged from the bushes with a sheepish look adorning her features.

“I’m tired of being manipulated or pitted against one of you, and I’m fairly certain that deep down you two are tired of that too. Yen, and Triss, you will always be special to me and I would like nothing better than to be able to keep you as my dear friends. But if you cannot accept that I have found my peace and happiness with Regis, then leave me be. Because few things are more precious to me right now,” the witcher finished before walking back down to the estate, not waiting for a retort of any kind.

He went down to the alchemy lab where he instantly spotted Regis standing with his back to him. He walked up, not bothering with treading his usual silent steps, and embraced him from behind.

“Something I can help you with Geralt?” the vampire sounded amused.

“Unless you know of a way where it won’t be so damn draining to speak to Triss and Yennefer, not really,” Geralt sighed. A snort sounded to the left so he turned his head. “And Dettlaff is back, hurray,” he drawled dryly and received a bored look in return.

“Now, now. Things will sort themselves in time with the sorceresses, I’m sure. You’ve known one another for a long time after all,” Regis comforted, still studying the contents on the table.

“Regis?”

“Hm?” the vampire turned his head and was caught off guard as Geralt stole a dragged out kiss from him.  
The verbal roll of the eyes from Dettlaff went ignored, as per usual.

“There, now I feel better,” the witcher smirked once he pulled back, Regis shook his head at him.

“Stop distracting me from my work, witcher,” but the words came with a chuckle so there was no need to take him too seriously.

“What work is that exactly?” Geralt let go of him and went to the side to better get a look at the contents.

“Hmm, the contents of the various bottles and jars we found in that dreadful place. Although macabre and unsavory, I thought it best to get a general understanding of what De Bathoryn actually did. It is now blatantly apparent, that for a race that is supposed obsessed with blood, we know painfully little about our own. I hope to study what he knew, humanly of course, and safely. No unnecessary risks, no test subjects.”

“Well, I trust you with this Regis, and you are probably right that it is wise to learn about all this stuff, no matter how disgusting the origins of this knowledge were. If only not to be caught with our pants down again,” he nodded.

“Exactly, and the story about De Bathoryn will spread like wildfire among us, as a cautionary tale. Just like Khagmar. This is absolutely no way to go if we wish to be left in peace, not to mention such behaviors could set vampire-human interaction back centuries. Not that it is terribly much to boast of right now but still, better than what it was back in the dark days…”

“I agree, there was one thing I didn’t mention last night though. The vampire, Vlad, he took his inspiration from the cursed sister of the Duchess,” Geralt spoke lowly.

“Syanna?” Dettlaff frowned.

“Ah, I had an inkling you weren’t telling us everything last night, now I am glad you didn’t.”

“We cannot be blamed for this lunatics actions, even if we caused Syanna’s curse. Or actually it wasn’t a curse at all, we pulled her true self to the forefront,” Dettlaff hissed.

“I agree, and Syanna is not the first to be cursed in such a way that resembles vampirism. We have no blame in this Geralt, if you are currently humoring such thoughts, throw them from your mind,” Regis nodded.

“I know, and I don’t really regret the way we dealt with Syanna either. Was still unpleasant to hear about it…”

“Vlad was a heinous kin killer, not right in the head. His motivations and inspirations mean nothing,” Dettlaff huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a definite manner.

“Well then, this is one of the rare times Dettlaff has actually convinced me before you managed to.” The witcher smiled to Regis who just shook his head.

“In any case, we will share this too with the Unseen,” the scholar said, turning back to his potions.

“The unseen? You made contact?” Geralt looked to Dettlaff who nodded.

“Just after you disappeared, it went a lot better than expected. He was angrier at whatever was murdering his people, than he was at being disturbed. I am actually ordered to deliver a last report of what Vlad was actually doing,” he elaborated.

“Huh, make sure to phrase it so that if this happens again, humans will come and fuck up his cave, seems to be the only thing he really cares about.”

“Usually perhaps, but the creation of bastardized vampires would not sit well with him either,” Regis added.

“Say what you want as long as it lessens the risk of someone doing something like this nightmare again,” Geralt sighed.

“On that I believe we are all in agreement,” his vampire nodded.

 

It was some time later that all three of them walked up together from the cellar to attend dinner. Dettlaff seemed a little nervous about the two sorceresses, so he opted to sit at Regis’ side, as far away from them as possible. This dinner wasn’t near as awkward as last night had been, it seemed Triss and Yennefer had managed to come to some terms about this “new version” of Geralt at least. The conversation was pretty close to civilized, if a bit snarky here and there, but that was pretty regular with all of Geralt’s friends.  
They ended up discussing the trial that was coming up. Triss and Yennefer had decided to attend, perhaps gauge the real power of the sorceress.

“And if you gauge it as unstable, you’ll what? Plea for her?” Geralt arched a brow.

“Don’t be absurd,” Yennefer huffed.

“It’s more because you said her former lover claimed she was only half a sorceress. There’s been some time since the last time a potential sorcerer or sorceress failed to get properly trained and went mad. So call this academic interest,” Triss elaborate.

“Huh… rather unconventional academic interest,” Regis commented.

“No, it would be unconventional if we willfully kept teachings and control from a potential sorcerer or sorceress,” Yennefer near spat back, her hissing didn’t perturb Regis any more though. He simply shook his head.

“Wouldn’t vampires want her head?” Geralt interjected before this could escalate.

“No, we’ve dealt with the culprit on our end. As far as most vampires are concerned she was just mindless lackey that would not have been able to do this on her own. Of course some might be thirsting for her death, I doubt she would go unscathed if she were to be set free. Initially though, she is a human concern,” the older vampire explained, while Dettlaff nodded in agreement.

“I will go and inform the Unseen of what has transpired, I would like to see the trial as well, I will be back before then,” Dettlaff stood, followed by Regis who spoke quietly with him as they walked to the door. Dettlaff nodded once before opening the door and letting himself out.

“Well, not that this wasn’t lovely and all, but I think I will retire early tonight as well. Recovering and all that,” Geralt finished his wine and stood. “Enjoy the rest of the evening, ladies. Feel free to help yourself to any wine you want. Coming Regis?” he smirked at the vampire who flushed gently.

“Ah uh… good night,” the older man said quickly before ducking after Geralt into his room, closing the door behind him.

He turned just in time to be met with warm kisses from his witcher. Regis smiled, and curled a possessive arm around his middle.  
They undressed and crawled into bed, but nothing transpired beyond touches and kisses as Geralt truly felt winded once he lay down. Regis seemed to be quite alright with this though, as he spent long moments tracing Geralt’s scars carefully in-between just holding him close and touching his lips to Geralt’s own.

It all made Geralt curl rather possessively around his vampire, something that made the other man smile and run his fingers through white locks. They had talked somewhat about what Geralt had gone through, emotionally, at the hands of Vlad. But even with Geralt’s steps, strides if Ciri was to be believed, when it came to actually articulating emotions to others… well, the witcher still had a ways to go. The vampire had found that simply being close was a wonderful balm for them both.

He nuzzled into Geralt’s hair as the witcher’s breath grew slower, signaling his descent into sleep. The white haired man’s arm stayed curled around Regis’ middle though, and it made the vampire smile. For it almost appeared that Geralt, even in sleep, wanted to inform anyone that this man was his.  
Even without anyone to witness it, it filled the vampire’s chest with a pleased purr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe it is almost over? ;-;


	20. Chapter 19

The day of the trial arrived with gossiping turning up even higher than regular in Toussaint’s many corners. For now everyone were discussing why the Duchess had ruled that this be a close hearing. Usually such crimes went by public hearing, and the people felt cheated out of a good show.  
Geralt shook his head as they made their way through the booing masses on the bridge to the palace. The hearing would be held in one of the courtyards, it was filling up with courtiers that the Duchess could not ban from the hearing. There were plenty guards around, and to Geralt’s group’s astonishment, to the right of the Duchess stood her pale sister surrounded by armed guards. Only thin rope bound her hands gently, clearly more for show than for function.  
Behind him, he could hear Dettlaff suck in a small breath, before he gritted his teeth.

“You alright?” He glanced over his shoulder before Regis had the chance to, Dettlaff looked at him a little surprised, but gave a curt nod.

“I wonder how this one hasn’t started dancing naked in the moonlight yet,” Yennefer murmured as the sorceress was brought in under guard.  
And you didn’t need to be a sorcerer to see that the woman was falling apart at the seams, her eyes were wild, darting across the room before her head twitched seemingly without her control. She had deep scratches up her arms, self-inflicted. 

“Sorceress Bell,” an announcer broke the deafening silence that had fallen over the courtyard, making the mentioned sorceress jump and look around in distress. “You stand accused for being an accomplice in several, gruesome murders of people in Toussaint. Including esteemed Lady Oriana, and well over half the orphanage that the lady sponsored. Have you anything to say to this?” he lowered his scroll.  
One of the guards tapped her shoulder to make her focus, she squinted up at the announcer. 

“I will do the glorious work of the Eternal Fire, it burns brightly within!” she stated firmly after a long pause. The court started murmuring again.

“This is pointless,” Triss called out as she stood, and all eyes turned to her. 

“The head of the northern conclave speaks, Triss Merigold,” the announcer didn’t miss a beat.

“And why is this pointless, madam sorceress?” the Duchess asked in that surly manner she would adopt when things ceased to go her way.

“This sorceress is being overpowered, she has clearly never been properly trained and is losing her mind,” Triss continued, unperturbed by the Duquessa’s tone.

“The Eternal Fire shows me all I need, I shall never be tainted by your sinful and outlandish magic. My magic is pure, for it is from the Eternal Fire!” Belle raved where she stood, further proving Triss’ point in many eyes.

“Then what, you suggest we let this murderer go?” The glare could be felt across the yard.

“No, but holding a trial is pointless and demeaning, not to mention cruel. Not to her, but to those who lost their loved ones. Sentence her and be done with it, or give us your real purpose for this trial.” The sorceress crossed her arms before taking a seat once more.  
Geralt had to admit, he was more than a little impressed.

“Very well, I have been informed on what the murderers had planned to do. I have been informed of what they managed to do to Master Geralt. I wish to know if what happened, can in any way help free my beloved sister from this unfair curse,” the Duchess spoke firmly.  
There were shocked gasps hidden behind dainty hands. Geralt outright groaned together with Regis’ heavy eye roll.

“She cannot tell you anything, your Grace. It was her partner who did all that work, she was mainly used as a tool for the killing and rituals involved in those killings,” Geralt spoke up, not rising from his seat.

“But you got the serum, yet here you are unchanged!” She pointed at him, almost accusatory. How dare he be alright.

“Your Grace, this is pointless.” Regis stood, looking more than done with the annoying insistence of the Duchess. “Geralt is already mutated, if I may turn your attention to his cat like eyes for instance. The other accomplice ignored that fact and did not adjust his serum at all. We hold no secret cure for the bottled sickness he wished to spread, Geralt’s unique genes simply took the serum as a booster,” the man explained dryly and with a slower speech than usual, as if he was explaining something to a particularly daft and difficult five-year old.  
Well now Geralt just wanted to drag him down into a kiss, fuck he loved it when Regis gave the verbal ‘fuck you’. That this was against a noble made it fantastic, that it was in fact towards the leader of the region made him want to cheer a ‘hear, hear’.

“This is not an answer I can accept, Regis, my sister is cursed and needs help just like you would help any ailing!” she insisted, ignoring the growing murmurs of her court. “Syanna would never wish to harm anyone otherwise!”  
At the mention of her name, Syanna’s head snapped up and she glared at Regis across the yard. Then she caught sight of Dettlaff, and her whole face twisted into a nasty grimace. 

“You…!” she growled.

The crowd gasped as Syanna changed abruptly, her face twisting into that of a marred monster, long fangs sticking out from her vanishing lips. She looked like a fanged hag, back a little hunched. The court erupted into chaos as the Duchess’ sister broke from her already inadequate bindings and leapt from her guard. Courtiers stumbled over one another to escape as the lady turned monster shrieked with such ferocity those closest to her clutched their ears and groaned in pain.

“Come child, and be cleansed!”  
Geralt could only stare in horror as Belle approached the accursed monster with arms open wide, ignoring when that monster growled and bared already visible fangs.

“Syanna, no!” the Duchess’ scream fell on deaf ears as her sister pounced on the approaching woman before Geralt could jump down, not that it would help much, he was forced to leave his swords behind.

A pained groan was all Bell gave as Syanna sank her teeth into her shoulder, a gasp when her throat was torn out.  
The guards who had finally managed to right themselves after that horrible attack on their senses, back away in shock at the brutal feeding Syanna was now in the middle of. The Duquessa’s cries for the guards to restrain her, but don’t harm her, was ignored by all.

“For heaven’s sake,” Yennefer stood, hand up and ready to cast a spell now that the initial shock had worn off. Her hand was pushed down by another, the sorceress turned her head in an angry whip to give the hand’s owner a short tongue lashing. Dettlaff ignored her though and simply walked down the stands and towards the feasting monster.

“What is he doing?” Yennefer asked, unbelieving to what she was seeing.

“You will soon find out,” Regis just said quietly.  
The monster jerked its head up to see who dared disturb its feeing, and it growled menacingly at him.

“Calm yourself, wretch,” Dettlaff said firmly, voice dark and dangerous.  
Syanna startled backwards as if slapped, landing on her behind as she stared up at Dettlaff. Slowly her features seemed to melt back to that of a human, her eyes never leaving Dettlaff who was just staring down at her. Her mouth still dripping with fresh blood, her lip quivered as he crouched before her.

“It really is no fun in having fate and control wrung from your hands, is there Syanna?” He spoke quietly to her before the guards jumped into action and hauled her away.  
Dettlaff moved his eyes up to the Duchess who was staring at him “How…” she began.

“I have always had a way with mindless beasts,” he replied before walking out of the courtyard, leaving the Duchess to her shocked silence. 

 

They had just made it out of the city when Yennefer turned on them.

“You all had something to do with that cursed woman,” she narrowed her eyes at Geralt.

“A small hand in it, she’s a child of the dark sun. And trust me Yen, at the time it was the most favorable outcome,” the witcher replied without hesitation.

“How did you even manage to come up with such a curse?” Ciri interjected, though she sounded fascinated.

“Very easily,” he replied, giving his adoptive daughter a ‘tell you later’-look.  
The raven haired sorceress huffed in annoyance, but let the matter rest. 

“All things considered, at least this way Belle was given a quick death if a bit…undignified,” Regis commented.

“I don’t know, that justice was almost poetic don’t you think? She conspired with Vlad to make bastardized vampire monster, unknowing or no, and then she meets her end with a bastardized vampire monster,” Geralt supplied. And the fact that it was ironic that Belle met her end at the hands of what had initially inspired her lover to set off on this mad mission….it went unsaid between the two lovers. 

“The fact that such people like Belle still exists is something we need to discuss with the conclave. No one should fall under our search and go without training… To lose your mind like that, do such horrible things…” Triss shuddered. 

“It will be a topic of interest at least,” Yennefer shrugged. “To be honest, she seemed rather weak willed to be a sorceress. Even mindless oracles have their wills.”

“Well I doubt we should press the issue about making contact further south now at least, it doesn’t look like the Duchess holds magic in such a high regard at the moment,” Triss sighed.

“I really do wonder what will happen now,” Regis looked over his shoulder, back at Beauclair. “With such a show, her courtiers will demand more proper actions against her sister. Of that I am dead certain, if she refuses to take action now it might jeopardize her station. I wonder what is most important to her, how blind she really is?”

“Well, unless she plans to frame us in some way, we are free to stay and observe that you know,” Geralt smiled at him.

“For the moment anyway, but you are right. And then there is my new project, I would very much like to use your fancy lab for that Geralt,”

“What project? Should we fear another homemade curse?” Yennefer snorted before Geralt could reply, the witcher rolled his eyes at her.

“Ah, no. I am studying the potions Vlad made, to understand them and nothing more. So we aren’t quite so unprepared if something similar happens, also, I wish to study vampiric blood. It is clear there are things about it we don’t know, never cared to know. Learning about it could prove beneficial, at the very least interesting.”

“Fine, yes that sound reasonable enough,” the raven haired woman finally ceased her cross examination of them.

“You know,” Triss began as Corvo Bianco came into view as they walked together. “I saw more jars and bottles than what we collected the first time, if you want we can teleport over and I can help you transport them to Corvo Bianco,” she offered with a small smile to the vampire.

“Ah, I thank you for the kind offer, but I think I will have to decline,” Regis gave a slightly sheepish smile.

“Really, whatever for? It would be much quicker!” Ciri interjected.

“Hm… not that fond of portals really,” the vampire sighed.  
Geralt halted so quickly Regis walked straight into his back, before the witcher spun around and clasped his shoulders.

“Geralt, what?” Regis blinked.

“You hate portals too?” the witcher near choked up with emotion.

“Yes alright, now I see it too, they are practically meant for one another,” Yennefer snorted, but didn’t manage to hide her little smile as the witcher hugged a befuddled Regis. 

 

A year passed, filled with big and small events.  
After the infamous Belle Trial Toussaint descended into a bout of political unrest, the Duchess was forced to defend her station on more than one occasion. The unrest was all rooted in the Duchess’ unwillingness to punish her sister for the crimes she had committed, both recent and old. 

In the end, to properly quench the masses that demanded blood for blood, Anna Henrietta was forced to see her own sister hang. She could not even burry her in the ducal crypt, the people would not have it. So the Duchess bitterly buried her own sister on the palace grounds, a hidden spot all in the palace knew for the Duchess would spend long hours besides the palace’s only willow tree. To many it was a perfect metaphor for how the Duchess had lost sight of her land and people, blinded by her accursed sister. 

She hated Geralt with a passion, Regis she barely tolerated. But there was nothing she could do to them publicly, the witcher and his scholarly companion held the favor of her courtiers, many of her people, and even her trusted guard captain. She could demand not to see them at events she attended though, which suited the pair fine as they didn’t wish to mingle much at stuffy parties and gatherings in any case. Occasionally she would try to pull something to make things difficult for Geralt, but it was never seen through properly. Her guards, even her knights, had too much respect for the witcher who had rid them of so many ills by now. They near felt he deserved reward and not scorn from Her Enlightened Highness.

All of this truly mattered little though to the two men who currently occupied a bathtub together. Geralt was sitting in the middle of the tub, with Regis in his lap. He smirked at the shuddering man, who arched his back with a gasp as Geralt pressed upwards playfully. 

“Ngh, you brat I told you to wait,” He almost whined, and damn if Geralt didn’t love it when Regis whined in that voice.

“I’m not a very patient man, Regis, especially not with such a treat in my lap,” He purred, leaning forward to nip at his collar bone. 

“Uh… the water feels…I don’t even know, strange?” he bit his lip as Geralt rolled his up again, making the water slosh around.

“Good strange?” the witcher drew him closer so he could reach a budded nipple with his mouth.

“Ahh, what?” Regis moaned and Geralt just took that as a sign to start going for real. The other groaned and clung to the witcher like his life depended on it.  
After a few thrusts he stole Geralt’s lips in a searing kiss, holding them even as the man under him kept thrusting upwards.

“Mm Regis, you feel so good,” Geralt said a little raggedly once they parted and he had gasped for his breath, he honestly believed he could never truly tire of having Regis like this. It felt just as good and amazing as the last time, hell, it felt good to just be near the other.  
The vampire could only moan in reply as his nails scraped down Geralt’s back, making the witcher in turn buck up into the other. Oh, Regis knew exactly how to play him back.  
He kissed the older man’s throat as Regis threw his head back when Geralt angled himself to find that spot that got Regis particularly loud. 

“I’m not… going to…” Regis stuttered to the ceiling, eyes clenched shut. 

“Good, neither am I,” Geralt groaned.  
They both cried out, Regis from a well-aimed thrust from his witcher and Geralt from the answering clench around him.  
The vampire slumped against him once the high of his orgasm finally started to wear off. Geralt held him close, almost feeling like purring at how content he felt like this. Well there was one thing that could be improved.

“Regis.”

“Mm…?”

“The water is getting cold.”  
The other simply sighed and got up.

After drying off they ended up in bed to rest, with Regis lying halfway onto Geralt’s chest drawing idle patterns onto his skin. 

“Hm, you know I’ve been thinking a bit,” the witcher begun.

“Heh, a recommended pastime I hear,” Regis quipped and Geralt snorted before continuing.

“I’ve been thinking of going back to Kaer Morhen, maybe… try to patch the place up a bit. It’s an urge I find is growing bigger and bigger by each new day,” he sighed, hand trailing lazily up and down Regis’ naked back. “Perhaps it is Vesemir, subtly distilling his wish within me,” he was only half jesting.  
The vampire lifted his head from Geralt’s chest, looking intently at him for a moment.

“Where ever you chose to walk, Geralt, I’m with you,” he said seriously, and it warmed the witcher’s heart to know he didn’t even need to ask the other directly before he declared his want to join him.  
The witcher smiled, wide and warm as he raised his hand to his lover’s cheek, stroking gently before he spoke.

“My beloved and most trusted vampire,” he said with ease, prompting Regis to lean down and place lips upon his in a soft caress.  
He closed his eyes and held Regis close for as long as he could, before his lungs cried for air. They parted but stayed within each other’s breaths till Geralt’s had regained itself some.

“I love you,” Regis lent his forehead against his, eyes open and looking directly into Geralt’s own.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After more than 3 years of depression fueled writer's block, I've finally managed to write and complete a work I am actually a little proud of. Also, never written for the witcher fandom before, but I like it!  
> I know there is a lot to improve, but I feel as if I am off to a good start! (Critique is welcome as long as it is constructive and please be gentle on my healing soul).
> 
> I want to thank everyone who has taken some of their time to support me and this fic, I have loved every comment and kudos I have gotten so far! You guys are amazing, and you really make me want to just sit down and whip up a sequel at once!
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this fic to the end! Hope to see you all again!


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